Series 5 (Re)Imagined
by rhinestonecowboy
Summary: Why is it that the truest loves are those that are tried the hardest? When Eleanor's past and Caroline's insecurities come calling, the ladies test, then prove, their mettle - and of course find that love always wins. Thanks for anonymous encouragement. Signed reviews will remain published. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

"You're wearing a skirt." Caroline leaned on the kitchen sink - one hand sipping coffee from her mug, the other palm laid against the counter. Her eyes were narrowed but the corners of her thin, pale painted lips were turned upward.

Eleanor lifted an eyebrow and grinned. A skirt always meant one thing these days. Garters. "I am." She met the pointed gaze. Before she'd started seeing Caroline, she'd only occasionally wear garters with her skirts. It was something she did for herself during those long lonely years after she'd left Emma, to try and remember she was still a woman who existed in her own right. Outside of the girls and outside of her profession.

"Is there a special occasion – " a pause and scornful glance cast by Eleanor's very own headmistress – "at work?" Caroline broke eye contact and stacked the mug in the dishwasher, grabbed two lunches on the way around the kitchen island.

Greg and Flora waved at her from the couch in unison as she passed. "Bye mummy!"

Caroline walked over and kissed Flora on the top of the head, running a loving hand over her curly black hair. "Have a wonderful day, my darling." Then turning, she looked directly back at Eleanor.

"I must look the part of the put-together executive. The big boys are up from London today. Fiscal year-end evaluations and projection adjustments."

"Ah. And they're - 'skirt' - worthy?"

Quite accidentally - perhaps not _completely_ accidentally - Eleanor had been wearing a skirt and garters the morning she'd had Caroline over for brunch so many months ago when one thing had quickly lead to another. Her lingerie had not escaped Caroline's attention. And she'd noticed Caroline – noticing. Since then she'd made a point of wearing garters each and every time she wore a skirt, which was rare. She told herself, repeatedly, it wasn't… _exactly_ a mean thing to do. And it was nice to wear them for someone besides herself.

This entire understanding and much more passed between the two women early on a Tuesday morning in February as they prepared for work. Two months from Christmas and the agreement on both sides that trust might be the only way forward, things were going swimmingly. Two houses, two families, were hard. But the women were making it work. _Well, it's actually love that's making it work, isn't it?_ Eleanor hadn't thought about that word in a very long time, the positive effects at least, when it came to the romantic iteration.

She followed at Caroline's heels into the entryway. Caroline looked back over to the living room, mostly out of sight, where Greg and Flora were otherwise engaged with the bright yellow ride-able plastic train Flora had received for Christmas. It had been an instant favorite - for all ages - once they'd twigged how to turn off the maddening soundtrack that had played each time the wheels turned.

Caroline lowered her voice and ran a hand down the turned-up collar of Eleanor's crisp pink button-down. "So. You're wearing a skirt to impress the higher ups? I'm terribly disappointed." She frowned, then bustled about the entry gathering her keys and bag, donning her coat.

' _Dear God - I can do this - to her.'_ Eleanor watched the other woman orbit her, her own arms crossed and soul positively whistling in satisfaction. _'All of her just focused on me and pretending she isn't. Black patent heels clicking, blonde hair swinging, and blue eyes completely avoiding me.'_

She waited for Caroline, who was now blatantly ignoring her, to finish at the rack and grabbed her own long winter coat, and reveled in the other woman's show of discomfort.

The stairway up to the bedroom stood adjacent, disproportionate in its presence in her mind, and she knew in Caroline's. She was flipping her long auburn brown hair out from under the collar of her navy overcoat when Caroline, handbag crooked in elbow and keys in hand, turned to face her, business all over her face.

"I've a faculty executive meeting in about -" she looked down at her slender watch, "one hour."

Eleanor smirked at the application of logic as a tool to diffuse the delightful tension. She made a point of looking down at her own chunky, platinum, wide-faced watch. "The boys will be in the office at half eight."

They stood again in silence. Her body hummed and she could almost hear Caroline's humming right back. She sighed as she imagined images of last night's delights appearing behind Caroline's shining eyes like little movie screens.

"I've dinner with Jane tonight, and Greg's back to Jenny's for the rest of the week." Caroline offered no mercy, just a steady look.

"Lily's a recital and June's home studying, we're all to have dinner late."

"So, see you Friday night."

More silence and more humming.

Caroline turned on her heel, stepped around Eleanor, and opened the front door. "Right then."

She followed her out the door, into the cold grey morning, then out past her own compact white SUV to the gunmetal Jeep, meeting her in the space bounded on one side by the car and the other by the tall hedge. She allowed her presence to be enough to convince Caroline to re-focus her attention.

Caroline pitched her bag over to the passenger side and turned to Eleanor, who immediately grabbed her by the collars and kissed her. Caroline pulled her closer, then pushed her away. "I had every intention of doing that to you as soon as I heard you nipping at my heels across the gravel."

"Did you?"

The cloudy sky looked down as they lost themselves in each other again for too long, and not long enough. They exhaled together, finally, producing a cloud of steam in the cold morning, releasing the tension and finally relaxing into the other.

Caroline picked at the shoulder of Eleanor's jacket. "You didn't wear the skirt for your senior boys."

"Never." She smiled and leaned into Caroline, who was now reclined against the inside of the open door of the Jeep. She wrapped her arms tighter around her, turned and spoke into her ear as their hair mingled and their heads rested side by side. "Only for you, darling," She turned her head and kissed Caroline's jaw. "Only for you. For this moment, for this reason." She kissed her again and smiled. "Only for you."


	2. Chapter 2

"What's for lunch, then?" Lawrence waved at Beverley on his way into Caroline's office and tossed his bag onto a chair at the conference table, sat down next to it. He looked up from his phone at his mum expectantly.

She turned from the computer, took off her glasses and smiled over. "We've leftover curry."

"Eh - Okay." He looked back down at his phone.

Caroline removed it from his hands and put it on the table as she set a Tupperware in front of him. "It's plenty hot right now. Tuck in." She pulled a couple of forks from her own lunch bag, and handed him a napkin as well.

He scowled at her. "Angus and the boys are having an epic throw down over their footballers right now. Couldn't get enough of teasing me about being whipped, having lunch with my mum all the time."

She looked up from where she'd been assertively stirring her own bowl, trying not to be frustrated. While the move to John's seemed to suit him better in general, Lawrence had not significantly warmed toward his mother. "Well that was the deal, Lawrence, when you moved in with your father. Lunch twice a week and dinner twice a week. Nothing for it, so you'll just have to muddle through with me." She took a bite and gave a cool stare. "And I'd thought Angus had a little more character than that. I certainly know you do."

"Eh." Lawrence stayed non-committal and studied his own bowl.

They ate for another moment in silence, Caroline occasionally sneaking a glance over to Lawrence, wondering how to break through his reluctance.

"Your gran tells me you're still intent on joining the police cadets." Caroline's mouth was a thin drawn line, but she knew ignoring this current scheme and pretending Lawrence's mind wasn't set was the wrong way to go. He could be stubborn.

"I am. I've put in to join the volunteer program, and I think they might have me start later this spring; I can enroll in the IPLDP after term ends. Takes about two years in all."

"You'll finish your A-levels, no matter what else you decide to do." Her eyes pinned him in his seat.

"Yeah I know, I know." He scowled again.

"And you've spoken with Robbie?"

"Yah."

"Yah – and?" Caroline's frustration came through.

"And he says 'good on me,' says he's a mate down here that will look out for me, if I want. Put in the good word here and there, if he decides I'm worth it."

"Good." She continued to poke at her leftover curry. She and Eleanor and Flora had had a nice evening, last night. Takeaway, play time with Flora, and finally a moment together to catch up on life; moments that seemed increasingly difficult to find as school and work schedules picked back up after the holiday lull.

She looked over at Lawrence again. "And have you spoken with Jane, yet, as I've suggested?"

Lawrence pushed his fork around. "Nah."

"Would you look at me please, when I speak to you?" Caroline tried to keep the edge out of her tone.

He looked up. "I dunno. I mean, that's cool, and all, but you know it's weird too. I don't know her."

"Well you've met her."

"Sure. Well."

"Sure, well, what?" She picked up his phone, pulled up Jane in his contacts – she'd put the number in last week. "I've told her to expect your call or text. Now it just looks bad on you. I'd think you'd want to make a better impression."

"Fine. But I don't need _her_. I don't need _you_. I can do this myself." He tossed down his fork, sat back, crossed his arms and looked past her to the bare winter trees in the quad.

She sat back herself and crossed her arms. _'Ah. Right. Mum trying to help you into the police cadets. Not cool.'_ She sighed and shook her head. "OK. _OK_ Lawrence, I apologize. You can do this yourself. But how about this? We've dinner on Thursday. Can I ask Jane over? I've questions myself. Not about – well - not trying to sway anything - one way or the other. Just, because I _worry_. And I worry because I care about you."

"Yeah. Yeah. Fine." He gave her his best, 'I'm humoring you,' expression.

"Look. I'm just trying to say, that if this is what _you_ want, well, I _want_ to support you." Caroline's tone was soft. Her mouth was still set in a line, but she leaned forward.

"Yeah?" He was finally willing to make eye contact.

She nodded. "Yeah." _Police isn't the worst I could hope for. "_ I'm going to be supportive of you, Lawrence. Whether you like it or not."

* * *

Caroline smiled smartly over at Jane across the counter, each of them chopping at different pieces of dinner. "And how are things going with Zoe?"

The dark-haired, dark-eyed woman smiled back. "Going pretty well, actually." She popped a piece of carrot in her mouth and crunched.

"Actually? You sound surprised." Caroline was.

"I don't do long-term, usually." Jane shrugged and slid the chopped carrots into the roasting pan.

Caroline laughed. "Long term? I think you _met_ less than three months ago?"

Jane picked up her wine glass as Caroline continued with the cauliflower. "Yeah, well. Time's relative to age, I suppose." She grinned and Caroline tossed an ear over the counter at her. Jane picked it up and munched on it as well.

"So this _long-term_ thing, it's working out? You like her?"

"I do. She's casual and busy and cute and fun."

"Sounds like someone else I know."

"Thanks."

They exchanged smiles and Jane slid the roasting pan over. Caroline added the cauliflower and slid it back. The other woman turned and placed it in the oven.

* * *

"Lawrence the most important question is - why do you want to join the police?" Jane asked openly, and her easy manner was bringing Lawrence around slowly.

He chewed in a most thoughtful manner. "I've thought about that loads. I mean you, know, to come up with a reason for the interviews better than 'it seemed cool.'" He speared a roasted carrot, bit on an end.

Alan and Celia smiled at him, and each other. Alan poked his fork at him. "We're honest when we're young and honest when we're old. It's the middle that we've mucked up, isn't it?"

Caroline was intensely curious. So far Jane had pulled a full megabyte more information out of Lawrence in a night than she'd managed in a month.

He nodded, apparently affirming his own thoughts, his mannerisms still unmistakably making him her son.

"University, it's not right for me. I'm not soft like William, and you know, living with Dad – he just thinks and reads and writes all the time, when he's not drinking, and that's not for me neither. Not really doing anything. Or knowing what it is I'm doing with myself."

Jane was the only person at the table who wasn't leaning in toward the teenager.

"And I see the guys" - he glanced over at Jane - "and girls out, you know in the town and they have this sense of purpose, I guess. Like they know what they're doing with themselves every day and they want to be doing it. Makes sense, yeah?"

"Absolutely, Lawrence. It makes total sense." Jane smiled. "I think you might get an answer like that out of most of our lot. But police work, it's not just about putting yourself to work on something with a cut and dried purpose."

"Yeah that's kinda what Robbie said." He looked down and was now definitely introspective. He glanced over at Celia and she smiled at him, mercifully silent.

He looked up at his mum for a moment, back down at his plate. Over at Celia again, and back down again.

"So, like, they help people. They make us all better. Where we live, like a better place to live. And umm, you know," he looked up at Jane. "Like, you guys do things like catch the people that knocked down Kate. You take things that happen, you know, bad things, and you make them better for people." He pushed a carrot on his plate. "Like my mum." His eyes shot up to Caroline's until hers, wide with surprise, started to mist over. He backed away quickly from openly admitting how much he cared about her. "And you know, other people's mum's. And it seems like I could be a part of doing something important like that."

Jane dabbed her mouth with her napkin. "I think that's a perfect reason." She smiled at him across the table. Caroline was quiet and still next to her, eyes on her plate.

Alan put his hand on Lawrence's and gave a quick squeeze. "Good lad."

Lawrence nodded at him. He looked to Celia one more time, quite obviously for reassurance, which she offered with a smile.


	3. Chapter 3

' _Saturday, then, the 14th, or perhaps Sunday the 15th? If either works?'_

Eleanor knew this time of year, Valentine's Day, was sensitive for Caroline. That was more than understandable. But she wanted her to know that the door was open. She didn't expect anything, but hope was something everyone had a right to. She waited for a moment before setting down her mobile to see if Caroline would respond. They'd been trying to schedule dinner and a night over. She turned back to her computer. The mobile buzzed again a few minutes later.

' _I'm busy Saturday, then headed down with Flora to see William on Sunday. Monday night?'_

Eleanor clicked through to her calendar. _'Wonderful. I'll make it work. Can we do my place?'_

Another interminable lapse ensued.

* * *

At her own desk Caroline stared at her mobile, unsure how to proceed. She'd done nothing productive since she'd been texting Eleanor, distracted by the conversation itself and distracted by the context. Of course she wanted to spend Valentine's Day with her. But she also wanted to – as she had for the past three years now, one way or the other – spend it with Kate.

Monday night at Eleanor's wasn't optimal, but it seemed important. And she did miss her. She knew that by that Monday she'd miss her _very_ much. She found a lot of comfort, a lot of safety in Eleanor's arms. She remembered how it felt to be secure and forgot how it felt to be lonely. February had become a lonely month and it oughtn't be.

And - she'd gotten Eleanor a gift. She wanted to be there when she opened it, just a small tea set, but she'd picked it out particularly and thought of her as soon as she'd seen it. That meant something to her, someone else always on her mind. She hoped it would mean something to the other woman as well. Hoped she'd get to see her brown eyes widen in surprise and delight.

 _'Monday night it is, your place. Can't wait. xo C'_

 _'Fantastic. xxx'_

* * *

Caroline lifted a very bundled Flora from her car seat the following Saturday, a cold and clear late morning following a chilly fog that had cleared as she made her way to the edge of Harrogate.

She set Flora down. Almost two now, she'd really found what her feet were for and become a scamp. She kept more than one eye on her these days. She opened the passenger door and lifted the box of bright white daisies she'd ordered for the occasion. The stores were lousy with roses during the entire month, and they just weren't quite right for Kate. They made the somber occasion too melodramatic.

She took Flora's hand, mitten in mitten, and they set off down the crunching gravel path.

"Mummy."

Caroline smiled down. "Yes. We're going to say hi to your other mum." She had explained to Flora that they were going to visit Kate, though her mum wasn't really there. Flora understood about Kate, which was a wonder of her young intuition and rare patience from Caroline. They would visit the marker together now and then, and Flora was becoming accustomed to the trips and their ritual. Kate's ashes had gone with Ginika, but she had wanted somewhere - something - in Harrogate - to mark Kate and who she'd been there.

They arrived a few moments later, Caroline able this Valentine's day to take in what surrounded her, the quiet beauty and the hyper-clear morning. It was – almost pleasant. At least it was okay.

She stopped and Flora walked right up to the marking stone and followed her natural curious toddler instinct to touch and to explore. Caroline set the box of flowers down, stood with her hands clasped, chest tightening and eyes stinging, watching Flora, who pointed at the stone and looked up at her. "Mummy?" Her eyes were excited that she'd gotten it right. She'd no idea what her lack of sorrow about it meant to Caroline, how tightly it squeezed her heart.

"Yep. Your mummy Kate." She still had not begun to cry earnestly, but she knew it was just a matter of time. She sighed and a puff of steam surrounded her. She knelt, sat, crossed her legs and opened the box of daisies, almost two dozen. Enough for a memory of Kate for the months they'd been in each other's lives. From their first shy kiss on a sunny warm spring day - under a glorious ancient Dutch Elm - to their last quick cursory kiss goodbye on the cold winter day Kate had died.

She held her arms open and Flora toddled over. Caroline handed her the flowers singularly, and pointed to the stone and the small patch of manicured grass, where Flora placed them, enjoying the process and having a job to do. She recounted to Flora a memory about her mum for each. This year she made it through a half-dozen before she pulled out one of the handkerchiefs she'd brought.

* * *

Flora sat next to Caroline, the empty flower box lonely near the grave. Used to her mum's long monologues, she plucked at a daisy and murmured to herself as Caroline spoke to Kate.

"You know I was _so_ worried about you Kate. When they told me at the hospital, and I knew you were somewhere in a room nearby, somewhere so _close_ but totally out of reach." She blew her nose softly and smiled over to Flora.

"Of course I've told you this before. But you _know_ I was so totally gutted, that I wasn't there at the end. To tell you it was okay. To smooth your frown and hold your hand - and most of all to make sure that you weren't _scared_." Caroline fidgeted and retied her scarf, praying as she sometimes did that Kate hadn't been scared at the end. She looked up at the sun breaking over the horizon, keeping its low, bleak mid-winter flight.

The glimmer of it through the leaves sparked a memory of a warm morning glow in her sunlit office, careening emotions and the light between the two of them. _'You're very pretty...'_ The sun filtering through the trees in the quad to touch Kate and her brown eyes and her soft skin. Dust moats floating in the air and time suspended. Looking for and really _seeing_ Kate, perhaps for the first time, and _finally_ falling, giving in, to what she'd wanted for so long.

Now the hard, thin, direct sun as it hurt Caroline's eyes and was absorbed into the flatness of Kate's slate grey stone.

"I mean, I _know_ you, I know _you_ would probably have been the one to tell me that it was going to be okay. That you wouldn't have been scared at all, and _you_ would have been holding my hand and telling _me_ that - it was going to be – you know." Caroline did not sob now, as she had so many times before at this point in her apology, but her breath hitched and she paused.

"You see I wanted to _know_ , for sure Kate. I wanted to know that you had peace, and you weren't hurting or scared, or lonely, or wondering where I was. That you left me the way you came to me. Calm and beautiful and perfect."

She closed her eyes as more tears snuck out, sighed and looked down, picked apart a blade of grass. "But then, that's silly isn't it? Because I know of course you found a way to be fine, to believe _something_ , at the end of it all."

"And then, I mean, you were gone. And I was still here. I was so worried, so scared for _your_ agony Kate. But I didn't know right then, that day that I lost you, about how it was going to be on this side of things. How the world would just _keep going_ on, to the next day, and the day after that, and after that, and _all the days_ that piled onto each other with you still being gone. All the first times of doing things without you there, knowing it was the first time in an endless string of times that I'd never do that particular something with you - ever again. And every first time hurting, my own death by a thousand cuts."

"I was hurting for you, but I should have been for me as well. Because of course the real agony isn't in dying. The real agony is in living - isn't it? In being left behind."

Caroline sighed, another billowing puff of breath in the late morning air. The sun was higher and the bright green and warm golden hues of the morning fought back against the thinness of the light.

"But it's not always agony, is it? Just sometimes it is. And sometimes things can be - quite lovely." She looked down again at her favorite well-worn boots and plucked at a daisy herself, mother and daughter in tandem. She smiled and sat in quiet, allowed herself to feel not so empty, and a little bit lovely about all she had. To think about her family – how proud she was of her boys - her work, and Eleanor's comforting grace weaving its way through as well.

She was finally cold and her knees were stiff. She stood slowly and took Flora's hand again. They waved together at Kate.

She looked up to the clear blue sky and closed her eyes against the sun, releasing just a few final tears, looked down again. "Can you say goodbye again to your mum, for now?"

"Yes. Goodbye mummy Kate." Flora looked up for approval and Caroline nodded.

Caroline smiled. "Thank you, Kate. I miss you every day, my magnificent friend."

Of course there was no answer except for the echo in Caroline's head. The voice she could still remember so clearly, on certain days. On others she could not remember Kate's voice at all, which scared her until she stopped, took a deep breath and found some of the calm Kate had left behind for her. _'Be happy, Caroline.'_

* * *

They went straight from Kate's to the central library, and now (in)famous visits, due to Flora's hooting, to Mummy 'n Me. Luckily for Caroline elephants had started to become a steady favorite, eclipsing owls, and it was equally adorable that Flora couldn't quite master their trumpeting. She had conceded that _walking_ like an elephant was just as fun as _sounding_ like an elephant. Babar had taken over the home library. They elephant walked together up the stairs and into the reading circle.

Then, a final stop at the grocer's for the week – snow was on the horizon - and then home again. Flora had become a very helpful shopping assistant, though if the colors on the label didn't suit her the box or can was likely to end up on the market floor.

Caroline was stooping to grab the latest from the reject committee when she stood to face Evan Crenshaw, former chair of her board.

"Hullo, Caroline." Evan smiled. Grimaced, really, but that was his standard expression. A cross between amusement and lower back pain.

She ran a hand across Flora's head and smiled. "Hullo Evan." She looked around for a compatriot. Of any sort. "Fancy seeing you – here – at my shop? Aren't you still over across and toward New Park?"

He held a hand basket out front of him, between him, Caroline, and her trolley.

"Yes. Well, just a quick stop. For Erica." Grimace.

"Ah. Right. Good. _Fine."_ She gave a pert nod and then tilted her head. "Need any help?"

What passed for a genuine smile appeared this time from Evan. "Ah, no, thanks. Think I'm sorted." He lifted his half-full basket.

"Good. _Great._ Well, then. See you at Sulgrave Heath? Next month for quarterlies?"

He nodded. "Absolutely. Lovely running into you and Flora. She's getting awfully big. Favors Kate, doesn't she?" He smiled at the toddler and waved. Flora returned the gesture with a split-tooth grin. Teething was a thing keeping the household lively.

They nodded and smiled and parted. _'That might be the most pleasant interaction I've ever had with Evan. And that's saying something. What -has- Eleanor done with him?'_ The thought crossed Caroline's mind and was long gone by the time she navigated full bags, and a zippy Flora to boot, into the Jeep.

* * *

Pasta with olive oil, sea salt, tomatoes and basil, arugula with the same on the side for the pair polished off dinner for the two McKenzie Dawson girls… with a glass of pinot for Caroline. Playtime on the floor until Caroline's back, hips, and knees complained _'Eleanor does go on about yoga – perhaps she has a point,'_ followed by a thorough and splashy bath time. Flora was clean and exhausted by eight pm. Caroline was plenty damp but not at all clean and completely exhausted. Two elephant books later Flora was out, and Caroline was more than ready for a second glass of pinot and a bath of her own.

She stripped off a soaked sweater and jeans on the way into her bath. She turned the faucet full-throttle and poured in a generous share of lavender salts, inhaled deeply as the steam rose to meet her.

She walked back out into her room and discarded the rest of her day-weary outfit while the bath filled, tied up her thick blonde hair. She picked up her mobile as it buzzed on the duvet where she'd tossed it. A jam-packed selfie of Eleanor, the girls, Jane and Zoe all crammed into the frame lit up the screen. She swiped over to Eleanor's text. _'Missing you tonight. Sending loads of Vday love. xxx your Eleanor.'_

Caroline smiled and calmly wished _her_ Eleanor _were_ here. Her fingers tapped at the screen. _'Missing you more, I think. See you soon. xo C.'_

She tossed the mobile on the duvet and smiled to herself on the way back to a bath she couldn't wait to melt into. _'Yep. I think I'd like to have Eleanor and chocolates waiting for me in here next year. Perhaps champagne, too.'_


	4. Chapter 4

"So Annie's back then, for the term?" Caroline dropped the question early into her visit with William at the Chequers down at Oxford.

The windows were still opaque with frost at the corners. Winter had seemed to fly by, but March had not yet staked its full claim.

He looked up to Caroline, a smile in his eyes but his tone somber. "Yeah. Her parents let her come back. We've talked, gotten together a couple times. I don't know if we're friends, or what. But it's better. It's good that we can talk, at least." He sighed. "Her parents, they're pretty old-school. Culturally very conservative. They weren't wild about their daughter going off to school in the first place, and then, you know."

"Yep. Their worst fears came true." Her voice had an edge she didn't bother to keep out. Knocking up girls wasn't how she saw her perfect William. She bent to pick up a crayon Flora had dropped on the sticky pub floor. She scowled at it, wiped it on her sleeve, and considered it clean enough. She returned it and Flora, who grinned and giggled. Caroline gave her a warning glance. _'This is not a game.'_ Flora read her intent and giggled again, but returned to her drawing.

"Yeah. I guess." William played at the coaster beneath his pint of stout. "But she told me that they had wanted her to keep the baby. I think they'd gotten used to it, were looking forward to it. Thought things were back on track, you know, the way it should be for a girl. They wanted her to marry; they weren't sure if they'd find someone in their community, but that's what they wanted. Annie had come to peace with it. But she was also horrified. She'd thought things in her life were about to end very differently than she'd imagined, hoped for. She's second generation, you know, she wants things for herself that her parents don't necessarily want for her."

He smiled wanly at Flora, took her hand and made a funny face which earned him a resulting smile and a ridiculously adorable attempt by Flora to mimic him.

Caroline was quiet. She blew across her mug. She had nothing but love and forgiveness for him, and she wanted him to know that. It didn't mean he was free of the consequences of his own actions.

"And Roxy's also back from America - her term abroad?"

"Yeah."

"And you two are…?"

"Friends."

"Ah." She gave a quick nod and sipped her tea. She'd tried some of the green Eleanor was always on about, but still couldn't get used to it. Black tea was her thing and that was that.

"I told her what happened with Annie. She said she was glad it wasn't her. Bit of dark humor, I think."

"I can imagine." She could imagine, quite well. There had been a close call early in her relationship with John, as she'd been going after her doctorate. Nothing came of it, but she'd been young and desperate - confused – and as a result, they'd both been stupid. Mistakes hide around every corner when you're young. Some of them with weightier consequences than others.

She still hadn't decided if John was a mistake or not. The marriage had been good, in many ways. At least she chose to maintain that impression and not wonder too much at what John might have been up to all along. The drinking hadn't really picked up until after the success of the novel. She thought perhaps that development had played a significant role in his decline as a husband.

"So you're still wanting to go abroad? This summer and next term?"

"Yes. Definitely. I'm still between Berlin and Tel-Aviv."

Caroline's eyes widened by a millimeter but she kept quiet. She deliberately looked away and handed Flora her sippy cup, which had migrated out of reach.

"I know you have a preference, mum." William _almost_ rolled his eyes.

"Because that's my right. Because I'm your mum. _William_. Really. _Tel-Aviv_?" She shot him an arch look. "I suppose I'll need to speak with your father about funding this little adventure?"

William looked down.

Caroline's look migrated from arch to petulant. "Well it's your life. I won't _stop_ you from following your own path, _wherever_ it leads you. And God save me I'll even _help_ you. But it doesn't mean I have to like it." She frowned and shook her head vigorously.

He smiled at her patiently and looked down. "Yeah. Thanks, mum." He sipped his pint. "It's just that Tel-Aviv – well it's got loads of amazing opportunity to study some really cool post-modern and contemporary artists who are crazy different from anything I'll get in the West. But there's also like this vast world of antiquities too. I mean, it's - unique."

His eyes lit up and Caroline knew what he wanted to do. Of course Berlin was full of the avant-garde. She could so readily see him there – but his heart was elsewhere. And she'd never deny her son whatever his heart called him to.

"And it will always be easy to go to Germany, won't it?" She smiled ruefully. "I think you should go to Tel-Aviv, William. I do. I really do." She sipped her tea and turned her attention over his shoulder and blankly out the window. _'Why do my boys want to go away? Why do they want to do things that – scare me?'_ She sighed. "It's an amazing program, through the University. I've looked it over and I can't deny it."

He smiled again, over the top of the rim as he finished his pint. "It's wicked cool. It really is. I've a mate who did it last term."

"And his wild tales of adventure and newly acquired worldly wisdom turned your gorgeous wavy red head?" Now Caroline's eyes twinkled.

He grinned shyly. "Yep. Pretty much."

They both laughed. She studied him, studied how much she loved him. How she missed him already, who he'd been when he was just her little boy. She loved who he was becoming, but she still missed who he _had_ been, to her. She smiled at Flora. _'And what will you do to break my heart, my darling?'_ Flora caught her glance and smiled back, gave the table a good thump. She thumped back.

"So - you're going to say hullo to your friend Jackie, before you go back to Harrogate?" He smiled mischievously.

"I am. And you can stop smirking, if you please."

"It's just – well it seems like you two have history." He came back un-intimidated and smiled at her, apparently testing the boundaries of what it meant to have an adult relationship with his mum.

"We do have a history. That's exactly what it is." She pointed her stern blue eyes and an index finger at him. "You know I'm quite serious with Eleanor."

"I do. I love it. It's just – well – I never took you for a Don Juan at University." He winked at her.

' _Did he just wink at me?!'_ Caroline smirked. Her William actually becoming a man, and growing into someone she really enjoyed – as a friend – spending time with. "Hardly. We do careless things in our youth, don't we?"

He acted appropriately abashed and she sipped her tea. "Apparently your mum was a little bit of a heartbreaker back in the day. Unwittingly, of course." She let him off the hook and gave him a wide smile.

"I don't doubt it. You're still a knockout."

She waved her hand. "Oh enough. Let's get you back to your flat, mister."

They gathered themselves and their belongings. William with Flora on his shoulders, back into the world they ventured.

* * *

Caroline and Flora drove up to Halifax for Flora's second birthday. It was far too difficult to stay home - at the house she'd shared with Kate - and as she grew bigger Flora was becoming obsessed with Gillian's sheep.

"She's a natural, Caroline, she really is." Gillian smiled as Flora walked right up and buried her hand in the wool of a ewe Gillian had corralled for her. She was due to start shearing in the next few weeks, depending on the weather, and the wool was thick and warm. Flora smiled up for Caroline's approval.

"I appoint you, aunt Gillian, officially in charge of her animal husbandry education."

Flora squatted down on her haunches to get a different perspective, reached out to touch the sheep's leg. She giggled as she ran her finger up and down the smooth lower hock.

Gillian smiled as the sheep shifted and Flora started back, only to move forward once again, her eyes wide with delight. "Laugh now, mummy. You might have yourself quite the veterinarian on your hands." She turned to Caroline. "How are you, then? Tricky time of year, I reckon."

"Yep." Caroline gave a curt nod. "Helps to keep busy, and that's not hard with this one."

"Imagine that's true." Gillian nodded back, both of them with one eye on Flora.

Caroline looked out at the grey and green world past the barn door. "It's been easier this year." Her eyes narrowed. "I know it will keep getting easier. That in and of itself is hard."

"One way to go in life." Gillian, hands shoved in her barn coat, tilted her head at Caroline.

"Yep."

The watched Flora poke and laugh at the bleating sheep.

"Gillian."

Caroline read Gillian's discomfort, how she reacted to her tone, and set her mouth. This conversation didn't have room for Gillian's insecurities. "How long do you think my mum and your dad can do this – commute. Between Halifax and Harrogate?"

"Hadn't thought about it. Until they don't want to, I 'spose. How you reckon it's any of our business?"

"Because they're our _parents_ , Gillian. That's how. And neither has improving eyesight. Or health."

"Look. I know you had that scare last summer with Celia. But she's fine. Likely better than my dad."

Caroline put up both of her hands, palms facing Gillian. "I'm not trying to compare anything, here." She tried to remain calm, but it wasn't her natural state during conflict. "I'm trying to think ahead."

"You can't be in charge of everything. You can't decide what happens for everyone just because it makes things easier for you." Gillian waved one hand as she bit at the thumb of the other.

"I'm not trying to control _anything_." Caroline held her voice down as Flora looked over, but her face and her tone were stern. "But I think it's worth a conversation."

"You think maybe they ought to be in on it as well?" Gillian stripped off her work gloves and slapped them on the corral. "You can't be in charge of everything, all the time. I'm sick of you trying, actually."

"Sure. But I wanted to ask you about it first, before I said anything. Because I _thought_ perhaps you might just go and fly off the handle. Create some irrational argument and make it about you – rather than about _their_ best interest."

"About me? How's this at all about me, Caroline?"

"It's not, _Gillian_. That's my whole point. But Alan's not going to want to upset you. And the fact of the matter is that they're going to _have_ to settle somewhere, at some point. And if it does end up being Harrogate, well you can't hold it against them."

"Hold it against them? Ah. Psh. Not likely. Hold it against you, more like."

"Exactly. And it's not about me. Or you. It's about them." She was smug as she allowed Gillian to make her point for her.

"And you gettin' to be high and mighty and satisfied about it, because you think they'll settle at your patch."

"Well it clearly makes the most sense."

Gillian walked over and picked up Flora, who had wandered over to the barn door. She put her down next to Caroline, who stood glaring with her arms crossed.

"So what is it you're trying to say here?" Gillian bit at her thumb again.

Caroline uncrossed her arms. "That we should have a conversation. Before we don't have _any_ choices."

"Ah. Yeah. Well. Sure." Gillian nodded, looked over and out the wide door. "And we can all talk about it - together?"

"Yes, Gillian, that's what I'm saying." Caroline placed her hands on her hips.

"Well you don't have to be such a condescending bitch about it." Gillian followed up with a scowl, and then a smile.

"Okay then. Let's talk about it. At dinner tonight?"

"Yeah. Okay. Robbie, he'll be there. He's better with things like this."

"Well we don't have to decide anything. Just talk." Caroline bent down and picked up Flora. "And we have a more important purpose at dinner. Celebrating this very big girl turning two!" She made an excited face and held up two fingers. Then she set Flora down and rubbed at her lower back.

Flora returned the gesture. "TWO!"

Gillian laughed and shook her head. She turned the sheep loose as they made their way out of the barn and back toward the house for a cup of tea and a much needed warm up.


	5. Chapter 5

"Janet – " Caroline paused. She didn't want to stir the pot with the Board of Governors, or with the Chair herself. Everything was so – smooth – after Eleanor had done what Eleanor did so well. But Caroline being nothing but herself, she couldn't help it.

Janet turned back from the office door. "Yes?"

Caroline stood at her desk, glasses in her hand, suspended in motion halfway to her face. She paused again before speaking. "Do you have another moment?"

Janet made a curious face, and inched back into the office. "Ah – yes. I've a bit of time. Everything all right?" She narrowed her eyes. "You're not leaving us are you?"

Caroline smiled, put her glasses on her desk and shook her head. "Oh no. Nothing like that."

"Good." The petite salt and pepper brunette set her bag at the conference table, draped her coat across a chair and came to sit opposite the desk.

Caroline mirrored her and sat, leaned forward with her hands clasped and elbows on the desk and face expecting an answer. "Can I ask what you know about the Governor's meeting last fall – the vote on my termination?"

Janet's expression didn't change. She eyed Caroline down, seemingly assessing how committed the other woman was to having this conversation. "Why do you ask? I'd considered the matter closed."

Caroline sat back in her chair and narrowed her own eyes. Well then. Janet did know something. There had been collusion. Eleanor indicated as much, but she was curious about the other side of things. Most of all she was curious about Evan's congenial behavior at the grocer the other week, and about what might be in store at the quarterly next week, or subsequent meetings.

"Eleanor and I had a conversation. She indicated that she'd traded a few horses to work things around – 'the right way' - shall we say?"

"I'd call that accurate." If she were at all intimidated by Caroline, and Caroline was used to intimidating people, Janet didn't show it.

She changed up her approach, smiled. "All right. Here's what I want to know. How'd she work out Evan Crenshaw's vote? That's the only one I can't – explain."

"Well, what's she told you? I have zero intention of stepping into or creating a potential dispute between Caroline McKenzie Dawson and Eleanor Strathclyde."

The friendly war of eye contact continued. Now Caroline was on the defensive. She'd no idea how much the other woman knew about that part of the equation, and had no intention of showing Eleanor's hand. "She was vague."

"Listen to me." Janet sat back and crossed her legs, hands resting in her lap. Her tone indicated Caroline was about to be the beneficiary of her many years of experience. "I've known that woman even longer than you have. I'm sure you'll recall that I chaired, and she was a parent representative, on the hiring committee that brought you on board. She was brand new back then, and so was I. We came up together, so to speak. As have you and I."

Caroline nodded. "And?"

"At heart, Eleanor's a businesswoman - and a damn good one. She didn't trip and fall into where she is today. Neither did you. You should respect that. I've seen her work some pretty neat tricks, on occasion. At the school and at Anadyne." Janet tilted her head down, waited for Caroline to catch on, which she did quickly. "And not one her arrangements have come back to bite her – or the school - in the arse."

"Ah."

"Mmmm hmmm. So whatever it is that Eleanor's worked out with Evan, I'd recommend you let it lie, and be glad for it. Count your blessings, whatever they may be, and move on."

Caroline frowned. She picked up her glasses, used them to illustrate her point. "You know that's not how I operate. Nothing below decks, nothing owed."

Janet stood. She turned and picked up her bag, draped her coat across her arm. "Well you're operating however you please, right now – sitting in that chair," Janet inclined her head, "with your job intact, likely for as long as you'd like it that way. And you can thank Eleanor Strathclyde for that. In fact, if she were there when I got home tonight, that's exactly what I'd do."

Flinty black eyes told her push had come to shove with Janet's patience.

"I like you Janet. I really do."

Janet smiled back. "And I you, Caroline. Enjoy your day."

"You as well. Thank you."

The older woman nodded, turned, and left the office. Caroline watched her walk out and pondered the closed door for a few minutes before turning back to her computer.

* * *

Caroline engaged the key in the Jeep and her mobile buzzed.

 _'I miss you.'_

She smiled down. _'I miss you as well.'_

 _'I hate missing you.'_ She could almost see Eleanor pouting at her own mobile.

 _'It's nearly Sunday.'_

 _'Not 'nearly' enough.'_

 _'I know.'_

 _'Skirt or dress?'_

Caroline smirked. _'Dress.'_

 _'Fantastic. But I'd rather know what you're wearing when you put it on. Or when I take it off.'_

Caroline sighed, happy but frustrated. She paused, mobile in hand and car warming, frost clearing from the windshield. She started typing. _'Let's shoot for three nights next week. I know we can do it.'_

 _'I'm fully committed. It's happening.'_

 _'Fantastic. xo C'_

 _'xxx'_

She tossed her mobile in her purse, but it promptly buzzed again and the bluetooth filled the car with Celia's voice.

"Caroline?"

"Hello Mum. What's up?" Caroline quickly looked in the rear view and pulled away from her spot at the front of the school, wipers clearing the misty rain from the windshield.

"Well it's just that you're late, love. We're supposed to be off into town fifteen minutes ago now." Celia sounded stern, but not overly.

She frowned, ticked off reference points in her head. "We're to have supper this time Saturday."

"Well it is Saturday."

Caroline smiled. "Nope. It's Thursday, mum. I've just finished a Sulgrave Heath – I'll be home shortly."

"Oh." Celia sounded disappointed.

"Where's Alan?" Caroline pulled into a roundabout, craning her neck at the passing traffic.

"Oh he's up in Halifax for the day with Harry. Fishing or having a pint or some such."

"All right then. Can I get you anything from the grocer? I've got to stop, Flora's in need of juice."

"No I'm set, love."

"Okay. Is Lawrence home yet?"

"Well I don't know about Lawrence, but it looks like John's here."

" _John."_ Caroline huffed. "Bloody hell." She felt more disappointed than angry. Distance from John had been the best possible thing in her life; it seemed to make everything easier, not having to nanny him constantly.

"My thoughts exactly."

' _John. What in the world has he got up to now, thinks it's so important that he thinks he's welcome to the house when I'm not home?'_ Caroline waited for the light to change, head back on the rest and staring out the rain-dotted window. It flipped to green and she rolled forward through the intersection.

"Well he's not welcome for dinner. If you see him, you can tell him that."

"It would be my pleasure, love."

"Alright. I'm on my way then. See you shortly. Bye bye."

"Bye."


	6. Chapter 6

"John." Caroline stripped her coat and hung it in the entry. She untied her scarf and hung it adjacent. She chose to keep the heels. She enjoyed having the extra height when it came to dealing with immature men.

"Ah. Yes. Caroline. Our stalwart of academia. Steward of the next generation. Home at last."

She ignored him, came through directly to the living room, picked up Flora, gave her a hug and a kiss. "And how is my darling girl today?" She leaned over to make eye contact with Greg, who was drawing in the study.

"A+ report card. Ship shape and the cutest hungry caterpillar on the planet." Greg smiled and waved.

"Wonderful." She took Flora's hand and led her to the kitchen and sat her on the center island. She touched a finger to her Flora's nose and made an absurd face, absurd as she could muster, and smiled at her two-year-old miracle.

She held Flora in place, stood in front of her and let her play with her necklace. She'd addressed the parents board today and was properly formal in triple strand pearls. Well, the best faux she could lay her hands on. Those damn full-freight mothers were always eyeing her jewelry, and black skirt suit. She finally looked up at John, leaning against the far counter and pulling an un-amused face. "Yes then. John. How have you been? And how can I help you?" She did not wait for him to respond and looked around. "Have you brought Lawrence home for dinner?"

"In fact I have not. I believe our youngest boy has gone off with his chum Angus to parts unknown. But I do think I heard him grunt something about dinner here later."

"Glad to hear you're keeping thorough notes."

John grimaced. "Yes." He looked over to Greg in the study. "Might we - find somewhere – well, more – private, to speak?"

Caroline sighed. There was just no casual with John. She plucked up Flora, set her back at her 'play station' in the living room, waved to Greg, and walked to the laundry at the back of the house. If she could help it at all, her ex-husband would never set foot in her bedroom again.

He followed and looked unhappily at the venue. Caroline was not interested in apologizing.

"OK. So. Well. Then. Yes. This will do." John shoved his hands in his pockets.

She crossed her arms and leaned back against the washing machine. "What is so urgent, that you weren't able to type a text or email and schedule something?"

"Well that seems so – formal – after all, Caroline. For the two of us." John's faced asked for conspiracy and she did not reciprocate. He continued. "I see. Still keeping up the glacial front. Not feeling the effects of global warming, so much, here. In this house, at least." He was still trying to loosen Caroline's tight façade, and she was still letting him get nowhere. "All right then. All right. I see how I'll just need to rise to the occasion, keep the chin high and wade in." He paced over to the far window, paced back to face Caroline, hands still shoved in his pockets.

"Are you coming around to a point, John? Or are we just to enjoy the ambiance together here longer?"

"I want to talk to you about William. And Lawrence. Thought perhaps it didn't need to be adversarial." He ducked his head to the side.

 _He's always in motion._ Caroline fought the urge to take his shoulders, stand him straight, and pin him in place. She'd done it more than once when they were married. "Good. Fine. Let's talk. But could you do me the favor of standing in place while we do?"

John grimaced, stood straight and folded his arms, across from and mirroring Caroline. Did he remember how his bobbing and weaving drove her to distraction?

"Yes. Good. Will-do. In any case, William and Lawrence. William ready to head off to the far reaches of the globe, and Lawrence ready to suit up and serve his fellow man. Our boys." He leaned forward. "They're our boys, Caroline. No matter how you might try to pretend otherwise, they are our boys. And they always will be."

"Yes. Nice of you to notice that. Glad all that time shagging Judith didn't give you permanent amnesia." Her expired patience sputtered on on fumes.

"Well to be fair, Caroline, Lawrence – also yours – is living with me right now. Under my roof. Care and protection provided by the pater familias."

Lightening flashed in Caroline's eyes and John, in anticipation of the coming thunder, raised his hand to forestall her. "Which gives joy and return to no end. We are peas in a pod, and I acknowledge your contribution to said joy in agreeing to share him with me." He clasped his hands in prayer and bowed.

Her anger was stoked and mollified by John's pseudo-gratitude. _How. How did I ever, ever manage to be married to this man? I mean, I understand he was a fair distraction in my youth. But - well - Janet's right about one thing – the next time I see Eleanor I'm going to thank her. For not being bloody impossible. In fact, as soon as I lay eyes on her, I'm going to thank her very thoro_ – Caroline shut off her train of thought abruptly, horrified to think of anything romantic while she was standing this near to John. "Once again. Is there a point, to _any_ of this?"

"Only that it might be beneficial if we were to – strategize – collaborate – on the financial aspect of fulfilling the lofty aspirations of our winged offspring?"

She decoded the phrasing and sighed. "Yes. Right. I agree. So then, how would you like to go about it?"

"An even split." John was blessedly circumspect.

Caroline shook her head. "You know that's not how it's going to work. I'm fully leveraged with the house."

"My current lifestyle may allow me greater flexibility, but that's hardly an equitable arrangement. It's been your choice to keep this grand castle. I've simply been more frugal." John gestured, absurdly, about the laundry room.

"This. Grand. Castle." Her eyes lit again. "Where we raised those two boys you mentioned? Where I'm raising my daughter? The home I share with my mother and her husband?"

"Yes. Yes. All that." John waved a hand in dismissal. "Nice place for it all."

Caroline was silent. She'd forgotten how to keep up with John, how it felt to have someone like him as a theoretical partner in life. Everything – everything was a justification and an explanation, a need and a negotiation. Well-worn feelings of fear resurfaced - that she wasn't 100% in control of her life and her future, John's unpredictability and what it might cost her - his potential impact on their children, came flooding through.

Fear at losing her house, her life, control of what she could give her boys, and now Flora, filled her mind. She felt angry tears beginning to gather and fought them back, glowering at John and so frustrated that he could so easily hit the rewind button on all she'd grown to be these past years without him. The storm continued to build in Caroline, and as she watched John she could almost see him begin to enjoy the moment. See him absorb her angry passion and –

 _'That's why he's here.'_ The thought was a pin to a balloon. All the fear-driven rage in Caroline evaporated. She uncrossed her arms. She laid her palms against the washing machine and took a deep breath, and looked down at the floor.

When she looked back up to John, she smiled. "No."

He grunted in surprise and frowned in confusion. "No - what, then?"

Caroline laughed, almost giddy. "You. This – no. I'm not going to do it anymore." Still smiling, she turned and leaned over to the basket on the floor, opened the lid of the washer and started piling in clothes, sorting them back into the basket as she went.

John was silent, nonplussed.

She continued her happy bustle and shut the lid of the washer, started it. She turned and opened the door to the laundry and walked back into the kitchen.

John followed. "I don't think we were quite – through – Caroline?"

"Oh yes. We're through John. We've been through for quite a while. However, much to my delight, I find that I'm still through with you. And I'm going to keep saying it, and keep reminding myself of that fact, until it sinks in for both of us. And I can't tell you how happy that makes me." She continued through to the entryway, John still following. She picked up his coat from the rack and handed it to him.

"I'll work on my side of the financing. You work on yours. Call me. Email me. I don't care, send me a letter. Just don't come back here. I meant it last time and I mean it again now." She skirted him and opened the door and gestured for him to exit.

He hastily shrugged into his coat, scowling at her. "How did I ever marry you?"

"I've often asked myself just that same question." She smiled and closed the door after him. Only how many hours now until she'd have her chance to thank Eleanor?


	7. Chapter 7

Eleanor's assistant Jeffrey knocked and entered before she had a chance to ask him in. She and the CFO, Madhur Patel, looked up in surprise at the unexpected interruption; they'd just wrapped their business and were chatting for a moment before leaving for the day. It was late afternoon, approaching early evening, and she was focused on making it over to Sulgrave Heath to pick up June and Lily from after-school activities. She was already due on the road.

"Ah. I'm sorry, Eleanor." Her assistant was exceptionally nervous as a tall man followed him directly. "I'm not sure how he got in."

Eleanor was instantly on guard as Kurt Williams stalked past Jeffrey and into the office. He stopped directly in front of the CFO and socked him with a strong right cross, knocking Madhur off his chair. He pointed at him where he was sprawled, eyes wide, then pointed at Eleanor.

"I've got business with you. Both of you." She met the unwelcome guest's eyes, alarmed. She looked over to Jeffrey at the door.

Williams followed her eyes and turned, pointed to Jeffrey. "Close the damn door and have a seat, if you don't mind, young man."

Jeffrey looked between Williams and Eleanor, unsure how to proceed. She kept a calm expression but her eyes were wide.

"I'm not saying I'm here to hurt anyone. But I'm not saying I won't, if it comes to it." Williams looked directly at Eleanor.

Patel had collected himself, but was on his knees at the front of her desk. He was unsure how Williams would react if he stood.

Eleanor removed her glasses and held Jeffrey in place with her eyes. She turned her attention back to Williams. "What is it you're here about, Kurt?" She kept her expression open and tone mild, but her heart was beating double time and out of pace. Williams' pupils were pinned and there was a thin mustache of sweat at his upper lip. It was very faint, but he smelled… _sour_.

They'd let Kurt Williams go two weeks ago. He headed quality control over on the manufacturing side. Questions had come up around the consistency of his performance. Then there had been an unscheduled evaluation that proved out the performance issues. Then there had been questions about his sobriety, about whether he might have a prescription abuse problem. She and Patel had two HR representatives and a lawyer present at the plant when they'd given him his severance and escorted him from the building. But there had been no issue on the day and Kurt had seemed mollified by the package they'd offered him.

"I'm only here, now, because that sod of a CEO Ken Lee is in London for the rest of the month, and this won't wait. I need my job back, and my salary back, right now. Since the both of you were good enough to sack me, you can fix it as well. I want Lee on the phone right now. I want you to tell him you're hiring me back."

"I'm not sure that can happen right at the moment, Kurt." Eleanor placed the palms of her hands on the top of her desk.

"It can happen if you're properly motivated, _Eleanor._ " William's left hand had not left the pocket of his sport coat since he entered, and that made her very nervous. He smiled at her, too many teeth showing. "I suggest you find that motivation. Quickly."

Patel moved to stand and Williams jumped. Patel silently raised his hands in a gesture of supplication and Williams nodded to the chair, where Patel sat. Neither Eleanor nor Jeffrey moved and she wondered how long they'd all been in the office together. It couldn't have been long? Her sense of time was fuzzy.

"OK. Kurt." She raised her own hands in an open gesture and looked down at her desk. "Tell me more about what's going on here. How we can help you."

Williams paced – turned to Jeffrey to see that he had not gone, turned back to Eleanor. The bank of windows in her office was at his left, and the sun had dipped beneath the horizon.

' _I'm late now. To get the girls.'_ She thought of June and Lily. Almost synchronously her mobile buzzed on her desk. Everyone in the office stared at it.

" _Don't._ Touch that." Williams went to her desk, picked it up and put it in his right pocket. His other hand did not leave his left pocket.

"Just my girls, Kurt. June and Lily, texting because I'm late to pick them up." She looked him over, expression mild. Her pulse was still racing however, and an odd sense of otherness had taken over her. Her head buzzed, light and full of stale air. She felt like she'd had too much tea without breakfast. She was having trouble remembering what had happened just a moment before, or thinking of what she should say next. She took a deep breath.

"I don't think we've begun this well, Kurt. Please. Have a seat." She gestured to the chair.

"No thank you, _Eleanor_ , and you can stop saying my name. We both know it, and you're not helping." His voice rose and the pace of his speech accelerated. "And I won't sit. This doesn't have to take a long time." He looked back at Jeffrey. Down at Patel. Over to her. "I have kids too, _Eleanor._ That's what's ' _going on here_.' A boy and a girl. In school. You know that too. And now, see, I don't have money to pay for that. Because you decided to sack me. So, as I've said, I need you to _fix_ your _mistake_."

She heard her mobile buzz again in William's pocket. "That's rather annoying, isn't it?" He took it out, tossed it on the ground and stepped on it with his boot, rested his weight on it as it cracked. "That's better." Another toothy smile, its whiteness accented by two days growth of stubble.

Eleanor winced. ' _OK. I think I'm losing control of things here.'_ She was still focused on the girls. It was ridiculous that she could be distracted by anything at the moment. She knew that the girls were perfectly safe. But still. They'd wonder where she was. ' _I'm sure Caroline will take care of it.'_

As Caroline crossed her mind a thought occurred to her. _'Just bend. Just relax.'_

"OK Kurt. Let's call Ken. Let's see what we can do."

"Good. Good. Good." He picked up the chair opposite her, next to Madhur, moved it to where he could observe them all and sat, finally.

Eleanor looked up to Jeffrey.

Williams stood again. "Oh no. No. No. He stays. And I'd really prefer that he close the door and sit. He's making me terribly nervous."

She nodded. She'd switched tactics and was happy to give Williams whatever he wanted, to get this over somehow. "That works. Jeffrey, have a seat." She gave him a confident, reassuring smile and nodded.

"Call Ken. Now."

"OK. On it. I'll just need to use my office line. The mobile's a non-starter." _Christ, Eleanor. Caroline's right. You never do stop, do you?_

Williams was not amused. He nodded at the phone.

She picked it up and dialed Ken's mobile. _Oh please pick up. Please pick up._

It rang. And rang. And went to voicemail. She turned to Williams. "Voicemail. Let me dial again." He nodded.

She dialed again. It rang. Finally, she heard him pick up. "Hi Ken. It's Eleanor."

Williams piped up, suddenly aware that the conversation was one sided on this end. "Put it on speaker. Right now." He stood.

She clicked it over to speaker.

"Yes. Hullo Eleanor. I'm in the middle of something. What do you need?" Lee was clearly annoyed.

"Well I've got Kurt Williams here, in my office. We're on speaker phone." She rushed through before Ken could say something disadvantageous.

Lee paused. "Alright." The light for the second line on her phone lit up and June's mobile number showed in the caller ID.

Williams stood again and he approached Eleanor's desk. "I want my bloody job back, Ken. Now." His anger was picking up now that he'd been offered a way to get what he wanted. Or perhaps as a resolution appeared closer he realized how futile his cause was. "You – you had no fucking right to fire me. I really just need my _job_ back."

Lee paused again on the other end of the line. Eleanor assumed he understood something of the situation. He was the CEO, after all, and not paid to be thick. "Kurt. I'm in London. This is something to be discussed in person. We can do that. I want to do that. I can be back in the office first thing tomorrow morning."

Ken had caught on. Her shallow breathing slowed imperceptibly.

"Don't stall Ken, I'm not stupid. Tell Eleanor to print up offer papers and we'll co-sign them now."

William's had thought this out – but only as far as his clearly drug-addled brain would let him. Still, it might be a way to de-escalate.

"Alright Kurt. I can authorize that. Something temporary to get things back on track until I return and we can revisit the situation."

Williams sat again. He drummed the fingers of his right hand on the desk. The left remained in his pocket. The broken wheels turned. Ken was quiet in London and she could hear the faint white noise on the open line.

"Fine. Fine. And – and - you all have to apologize to me." He pressed his index finger into the desk, hard, the tip turning white. He stared at Eleanor.

"We can make all that happen, Kurt. And I'll be the first to apologize. I'm sorry." Ken's voice was steady and sincere.


	8. Chapter 8

At Sulgrave Heath, June and Lily sat at the conference table in Caroline's office. They'd both tried their mother's mobile twice to no avail. June had called her office line as well as Jeffrey's. They were studying quietly and Caroline was at her desk. The girls had assumed something had come up for Eleanor, but as the minutes ticked on they all began to question their assumptions.

Caroline felt like vomiting. She'd been typing the same email for twenty minutes, since June and Lily came in wondering if she'd heard from Eleanor. At first her anxiety was present, but easy to ignore. As time passed she felt increasingly nauseous. But she certainly didn't want to upset the girls, and she knew there were a million good explanations for Eleanor's delay. Why she wasn't where she was supposed to be. Wasn't answering her mobile. Hadn't been in touch. Absent without explanation. Unlike what had happened with Kate, all of this would resolve with a laugh. Surely.

She looked over at the clock and stood up. A little more than half hour had passed with no word. She smiled calmly, reassuringly, at the girls and held up an index finger. She walked into Beverley's office and shut her own door.

"Ah. Ehm. Beverley." She removed her glasses, rested the back of her hand on her hip at the top of her wide belt. With her other hand she pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes stinging.

Beverley walked past her and shut the outer door of the office, walked back and stood next to Caroline, rested a hand on her shoulder. She leaned over to the desk and offered Caroline a tissue.

Caroline smiled and blew her nose, visibly composed herself. "Right. Thanks."

"Caroline – " Beverley paused, her face pained. "It's fine, I'm sure. It's going to be fine."

Caroline nodded sharply. "Yes. Right. I was wondering – can you pull up the Anadyne central line from Eleanor's donor record? I thought I might call and see if she went out unexpectedly, was called into a meeting, or – " she trailed off.

"Of course." Beverley sat at her desk and pulled up the file.

She stood silent, motionless, arms now crossed, and waited. She stared at Beverley's wall calendar. It was always Westies, every year. Beverley had a Westie. She loved the breed. March featured two white puppies with red collars in a green field.

Beverley copied the number onto a note pad and handed it to her, who motioned to the phone. Beverley turned it across the desk and handed her the handset. She dialed and waited. It was almost half five now. It rang. The Westies and their dark black eyes stared back. The after-hours automated recording played. She set the phone gently back in the cradle.

Beverley looked up at her.

"No answer." Caroline fidgeted with her glasses. "Do you think we ought to call the police? Do you think I ought to go over there? Just drive the girls home and keep waiting? I don't want to overreact here. Needlessly worry the girls." _Start acting again like I've lost my marbles, that I'm just a fragile broken thing to be pitied._

"Oh Caroline. I'm sorry. I think we ought to give it just a few minutes more. And I think you ought to stay with the girls."

She nodded, mute.

"I'm happy to drive over, if you'd like." Beverley's offer was sincere and Caroline knew it. Still. Across town at half five… what good would it do? Beverley was right, that they ought to wait.

She opened the door to her office and popped her head in. The girls looked up expectantly. She put on a casual tone. "Just off to the loo for a second." Their faces were pinched, dusted with shadows of that frown Eleanor so seldom wore that Caroline hated. "I'm sure we'll hear from her any minute now."

She closed the door again. She gave Beverley a tight smile and went off to the toilet, where she locked herself in a stall and leaned back against the door, shut her eyes and tried to breathe away the worry and the tears, to little success.

* * *

"Eleanor, are you clear on next steps?" Ken's tone was still perfectly calm.

"Perfectly. Are you all set on your end?" Eleanor did not trust herself to look at Williams, and stared out the window as she talked at the speaker.

"Absolutely."

Williams was busy looking from the speaker, back to Eleanor, and occasionally back to Jeffrey. He'd stood again. It wasn't clear that he was completely placated. But he wasn't escalating anymore.

Eleanor hung up and turned back to the anxious, angry man.

"OK then Kurt. Temporary papers. I'm glad we could work this out." Eleanor favored him with her most trustworthy look, hoped that the architecture of his constructed reality would hold through this obvious charade. She assumed Ken had alerted proper authorities with Anadyne and with Harrogate Metro. She wasn't sure what made her more anxious; Williams potential understanding that none of this would pan out, or the arrival of the wrong person at the wrong time through her office door. Of both scenarios she favored the latter. It still wasn't clear if Williams was intent on violence. But she felt instinctively uneasy.

Her office line rang. She ignored it, kept her focus on Williams. He ignored it as well.

"I'll need to use my computer to type something up."

"Fine. Turn the screen so I can see it."

She did as instructed and opened up a blank document. She hastily wrote out a half-page of a meaningless boiler-plate job offer.

While she was typing her phone rang again. Her eyes darted over. 'Harrogate Metropol….' The rest was cut off. She hoped Williams wasn't able to see it. It was almost six now. She was over an hour late to get the girls with no explanation for her absence.

It seemed impossible to be more distressed, but at that moment her stomach dropped through the floor. _'Oh Christ. Caroline must be going out of her fucking mind.'_ Her pulse picked back up again. Her entire mouth tasted like she had a bloody nose.

* * *

"Jane I _think_ it's inappropriate, and I _know_ it's an awfully big favor. But would you mind – checking on Eleanor? Unofficially?" Caroline had collected herself in the toilet. She had washed her face and pulled out her mobile, pulled up Jane's number. Her thumb hovered for a moment and she dialed. Jane had picked up a couple rings in. Caroline stared at herself blankly in the mirror as they spoke.

"No problem, Caroline. Happy to do it. I'm off in an hour anyway, so I can 'unoffically' officially pop over right now and then call it a day. Just following up on a request from a concerned citizen." Jane's tone was assuring, though airy and light. She sounded like a police officer trying to be a friend.

"Thanks, Jane. Really. I'm sure it's nothing. But thank you."

"Anytime, Caroline. I'll call you – or have Eleanor call you – as soon as I see her."

"OK. OK. Thank you, Jane." Caroline clicked off. Blew her nose one more time and walked back to her office.

She nodded at Beverley, who smiled up in sympathy. "Can I do anything?"

"No thank you. I've asked Jane Hayden to follow up."

"Perfect plan."

Caroline opened her door again and the two girls looked up expectantly. She had the idea not much homework was still being done. It was now approaching 6pm.

She looked at them both, offered a reassuring smile. "I've asked Jane to pop over to your mum's office and see if she's about. I'm sure she's just forgotten her mobile or lost track of time." It sounded thin to her own ears, but the words were less important that her confident tone.

June's eyes were big.

Lily nodded. "Thank you Caroline. We're awfully worried."

Caroline almost lost her composure completely, but took a very deep breath and exhaled from her toes. "I'm sure it's fine." She smiled.

They nodded. It might be fine now, but the girls weren't fine, not at all. Caroline put her hands on her hips. She knew that she must be transferring some anxiety. She looked at their wide brown and green eyes.

"Would it be alright, if perhaps – well I think a hug might be in order?"

They smiled, got up and let Caroline wrap an arm around each of them. Somehow offering the girls comfort made her feel less anxious and less like crying. She closed her eyes and let herself feel better.

* * *

Jane's mobile buzzed on her way out to Eleanor's office. Dispatch. "Hayden."

"Hey. It's Sherwood. I know you're on your way out to Anadyne. We just got a call from their CEO."

"About what?" Jane downgraded her optimistic assessment of the situation.

"Apparently there's a sacked employee that's come back around with a grievance. He's got the COO and the CFO in an office demanding his job back."

Jane's mood worsened as she pictured Caroline the last time she'd been into the station, tissue in hand and holding every piece of herself together with simple willpower. Strung tight as a high-voltage line and perched at the edge of one of their crappy plastic interview chairs.

She flipped on her lights and picked up her speed.

"We're sending another couple of cars out to meet you."

"Alright. I'll ping when I get there. Can we get in?"

"Yes. CEO has the night watch letting us in the front and the back. We've told them not to engage, wait for us to come and take charge."

"Good."

She clicked off and tucked the mobile back in her suit jacket. ' _Goddamnit.'_


	9. Chapter 9

Eleanor pulled the ridiculously meaningless 'contract' off the printer. Williams had made her make small corrections and additions. She placed it in front of him and he read it over again.

He looked up. "Okay. Give me a pen." He signed it and offered her the pen back. She smiled tightly and signed it as well. Without thinking she offered him her hand to shake on the deal.

He smiled comically and took it. "Glad we could work all this out, Eleanor."

"Absolutely, Kurt." She marveled inside. _It's going to be fine. Just keep going with this._ "Let's schedule something with Ken tomorrow." What a ridiculous thing to say. She was on autopilot.

"Good. Good." Left hand still in his pocket. He picked up the paper. It seemed to be a totem, and it had significantly changed his mood. He walked over to the office door and opened it, taking his hand out of his pocket finally. Eleanor stared as he turned the door knob, waiting to exhale and realizing she'd been holding her breath for an hour.

He continued to walk forward, left the office door open. Did not look back. Apparently for him, the situation had been resolved.

The three left in the office stared at each other silently, numbly. They heard him open the door to the outer office and instantly a commotion ensued, a number of voices and a thump or two on the walls. The three in Eleanor's office were still glued to the floor, still in shock and unable to act on their curiosity.

From behind her desk, Eleanor had a direct view. She saw a few police officers in bright vests pass back and forth, then nothing. Jane Hayden came through the doorway and caught sight of Eleanor, a brilliant smile lighting her face as soon as she did. She doubled her pace forward into the office. She put a hand on Eleanor's arm, swept the office with her eyes, and then looked to the two men.

"Everyone alright in here?" She looked to each. "We were just setting up out there when your man came waltzing out."

They each nodded silently in turn. Eleanor suspected they were all equally unsure what had just happened. If they'd even been in danger, of if they'd just been inconvenienced. The immediate past was taking enough of their remaining ability to focus that they couldn't function well in the _now_.

Jane motioned to another officer coming in from the hallway.

"I've seen my fair share of shock. You all need to sit." She motioned to a man a few feet away. "Jones. Can you take interviews from these two gentlemen in the outer offices? I'll work with Ms. Strathclyde."

"Yes ma'am" He gestured to Madhur and Jeffrey and they followed him quietly.

Eleanor looked over to Jane, expression blank. "Hi Jane." Tears filled her eyes. Jane swung the door closed further, blocking them from the rest of the bustle. She turned back and gave Eleanor a giant hug. "Hi Eleanor. Rough night, I think. Awfully glad to see you."

Eleanor nodded silently and held Jane fiercely. She exhaled violently and the act seemed to bring her back to the present. "Jane. The girls – they're with Caroline, yes? The girls are Okay?" Jane nodded as Eleanor rambled. "And why are you here? Did Ken call?"

"Yes. Caroline called as well, when you were so late. I was on the way over when dispatch got hold of me."

"My phone, it's gone, I mean, it's – " she turned and looked at where it lay shattered on the low-pile carpet.

Jane reached into her pocket. "You can use mine. Caroline's with the girls. I know they'll want to hear from you."

Eleanor looked up, eyes wide. "Is Caroline - Okay, Jane. Do you know what I mean?"

"She'll be fine, Eleanor. Just give her a call, yes?"

Eleanor nodded and looked down, her fingers anxiously keying in Caroline's mobile. She was eager, but terrified, to talk to her. Afraid to hear the anxiety she knew would be in her voice.

Caroline picked up and her tone was her _most_ carefully neutral, most businesslike. "Yes, Jane. Have you learned anything?" Eleanor immediately recognized the distance in it, the tight control.

"Hi Caroline. It's not Jane, it me, Eleanor. I'm fine, but I was – delayed getting out - I didn't – it was out of my hands – and my phone was broken during the whole – thing. But everything is absolutely fine. I'm sorry." Eleanor was rambling again. She didn't want Caroline to respond. She was terrified that the chill would still be in her tone. "Jane's been very helpful. Resolving it – well she's sorted it on this end. She says you have the girls with you?" Eleanor looked over to Jane, who was making a sympathetic face.

* * *

Caroline smiled confidently over to June and Lily and gave the thumbs up. They smiled back and at each other. It was nearly half six, only two hours since they'd expected Eleanor at the school. She looked up at the light to try and subdue the tears of relief in her eyes. She exhaled and blinked them back.

"I do. They're both here, fine as well. We're all ready to go home, I think." She sighed again. "Will you be much longer? Do you want me to give them a lift?"

"Oh Caroline I hate to ask. I'm so terribly sorry. I know you've probably been inconvenienced. I'm sure you've had to figure out something with Flora. I'm sure the girls have been worried.

"Eleanor?" Caroline frowned. Her tone was soft but insistent She was shaken to the core, but sensed perhaps this moment might be more about what had happened at the other side town. "Eleanor - are you alright?"

* * *

Eleanor put her hand over her mouth, closed her eyes and muffled a small sob.

Jane stood and gently took the phone from her.

"Hi Caroline. It's Jane."

* * *

The girls were packing up. Caroline turned her back to them, sat on the edge of her desk. Her calm expression was as carefully applied as her makeup in the morning. She felt anger beginning to rise. Not at Eleanor, or Jane. Anger at her helplessness and the growing understanding that something had happened to Eleanor she would have stopped, if she'd been able.

"Jane. I'd like you to please tell me what's happened tonight."

"Caroline everything is fine. I promise you that. There's been an incident with a former employee, and it's all ended well. But I'm going to be driving Eleanor home, and I think she'd really appreciate it if you could be there when we arrived. I'll need another half hour or so here with her, and then we'll be on our way. I'll text you. Will that work?"

Jane's voice had none of her usual playfulness. DCI Harmon was speaking to Caroline, and she nodded. "Of course, Jane. Of course. I'll be there. Tell Eleanor not to worry about the girls. I'll take care of everything on this end." She paused. "Please tell her I love her."

"Of course. Thank you, Caroline. See you in bit."

"Okay." She clicked off. _She's fine. She's fine. I think maybe something's happened. But she's fine. This isn't about you, Caroline. This isn't about the past._

Caroline turned to the girls. "We're all sorted. Your mum's fine. There's been an incident at work, but it's resolved." She gave them her most confident smile. "Now. It's time to head home. I need to stop and pick up Flora and a couple things at my house." She spoke while she picked up her bag and gathered her coat from the closet. The girls followed to her office door.

"Beverley. Thank you. We've figured it out. Situation at Anadyne."

"Of course, Caroline. You're off?" Beverly stood, clapped her hands at her sides. She looked like she wanted to hug Caroline, and unfortunately that wouldn't help anything at the moment. Caroline's careful facade would not endure additional kindness.

"We are." She paused and turned back at the door. "Thank you, Beverley."

The girls followed her sharp, deliberate heel clicks down the stairs and through the great hall. They were somber as they piled into the Jeep and Caroline knew they were still worried. She was.

"Alright. We're off. And I for one am starving. Can you two do me a favor and sort takeaway on our way home?"

Lily responded. "Of course Caroline." She turned to June and they chatted quietly as Caroline drove.


	10. Chapter 10

Even stopping to pick up Flora and pick up takeaway, they arrived at Eleanor's first. Caroline started the girls on dinner. Greg had already fed Flora and agreed to stay over the night – she had no intention of being anywhere but here for a minimum of twelve hours.

She was up in Eleanor's bedroom, sliding off her heels and her hose, when she saw lights pull into the drive. She heard the door open and Eleanor greet the girls. She stood, pulled her shoulders back and studied herself in the mirror and took a deep breath. When her expression no longer reminded her of a wide-eyed deer at the side of the road frozen in terror, she turned and headed downstairs.

Standing in the entry and hugging the girls, when Eleanor looked up, very little about her reminded Caroline of the woman she'd come to adore. Dark circles under reddened eyes stood out on a pale complexion that was usually warm. But she smiled brightly when she saw Caroline.

She put on a casual air and a smile of extreme confidence that had nothing to do with how she felt. She stood at the foot of the stairs and looked at Jane, who also seemed a different person than she had come to know, or rather reminded her of the police officer she'd first met two years ago at Harrogate Metro. Jane gave her that same 'everything will be fine, ma'am,' smile and curt nod. Caroline walked past Eleanor, still busy with the girls, into the dining room. She cleared the girl's dishes and walked them into the sink.

Jane joined her in the kitchen as Eleanor took the girls upstairs to bed.

"Please tell me what's happened." Caroline set her mouth in a thin line and placed her hands on her hips. She didn't leave room for denial or dissembling.

Jane paused and shed her previous formality. Her expression softened. "It really is okay Caroline. A man they'd let go a couple weeks ago decided he wanted his job back. He invited himself into Eleanor's office and assaulted the CFO."

Her eyes widened and Jane held up a hand. "It didn't go beyond that. And nothing – nothing happened to Eleanor. But the situation wasn't – flexible. Hence the delay. Do not run away with what-ifs in your mind, if you please."

Caroline nodded. "Good. Right. _Fine_." She wiped a spot on the counter that wasn't a spot. She glanced toward the stairs. She looked back. "Thank you. I think I owe you. I think you might have done a lot for Eleanor tonight. For me, too. And I appreciate that."

"My job. And I'm glad to do it. I'm glad to do you a favor. Remember," Jane gestured between them, "fast friends."

"Well thank you anyway." She smiled and stepped forward, hugged her, as she had when she'd held June and Lily, felt a thousand times better for having someone in her arms.

They walked back through the dining room, into the entry and met Eleanor on her way down the stairs. She hugged Caroline immediately, who now felt a _million_ times better for finally having this particular woman resting in her arms. They parted reluctantly.

Eleanor turned to Jane and immediately hugged her too. Then she stood back, eyes nowhere and set on Jane at the same time. "Thank you for everything. I mean it. Thank you."

Jane gave a two fingered salute. "Of course. That's what friends are for." She looked over at Caroline's grateful expression and inclined her head. "You make this one happy – that makes me happy."

Eleanor smiled. "Well I hope Zoe's got some happy waiting for you tonight. You've earned it." She winked.

Caroline blushed and looked over incredulously. "You really just don't ever stop, do you?" It broke her heart as Eleanor looked over and gave only a very pale imitation of her usual cocky grin.

"Alright. I'm off." Jane turned and started out. She turned back. "You might consider taking the day tomorrow, Eleanor. I'd really strongly suggest it." She gave a pointed look to both women. "There are a lot of ways to experience trauma. None of them should be ignored."

Eleanor nodded and shut the door. She turned back to Caroline, arms wide for a second hug that needed to be much longer than the first.

* * *

"I don't know why I'm so upset. Nothing really happened." Eleanor pushed her curry around her plate. She put down her fork and picked off more of her naan, took a bite.

"I do." Caroline rested her hand on top of Eleanor's. "We expect to be safe at work. We expect to be safe everywhere. But at particularly work - what happened tonight – it's a shock. It might have ended well, but it was unpredictable." She reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind Eleanor's ear. "It's not how you expected to end your day, to say the least." She gave a smile, still trying to find a spark of life. Knowing it was fine, normal that it be missing tonight, but wanting to see it. Wanting to feel the life in this woman she loved for all her own selfish, scared reasons. Glad to have her close enough to touch and desperate for reassurance herself. "Don't second guess yourself, or what you're feeling. Just - give yourself a break." She squeezed her hand.

Eleanor sat back and pushed away her dinner, less than hungry. "I suppose you're right."

"I am. Almost always." Caroline stood and cleared their mostly full plates, rinsed them and stacked them with the girl's plates in the dishwasher. She opened a bottle of wine and grabbed two glasses as Eleanor, arms crossed and sleeves over her thumbs, stared out the window.

She stopped behind Eleanor's chair and tilted her chin up toward the bedrooms. "Let's have a bath then." Her tone was not suggestive.

The other woman smiled pallidly and stood. "Lovely."

* * *

Caroline drew the bath, swirled her hand and accepted the temperature as just right. She turned to find Eleanor standing disaffected and completely naked. Hair draped everywhere, not really looking at her, not really looking at anything. The wrongness, the alienation of her flat nature and the absence of her playful air hurt Caroline profoundly. She desperately wanted to fix it.

Eleanor finally seemed to notice her, notice where she was and what was happening. "Would you join me? I'd like you to."

"Of course. Hold on just a moment." She gathered up Eleanor's hair and slid a band from her wrist, twisted it up and tied it away.

Eleanor stood patiently and waited. She smiled up softly when Caroline finished. "Thanks."

Caroline kissed her cheek. "Jump in. Take a minute to yourself. I'll be right back."

"Okay."

They lingered until the moon passed the window above and darkness fell. Caroline recounted meaningless events of the past few days, peppered with an occasional tale of Flora's hijinks. Eleanor stayed quiet and finally dozed off with her back against Caroline and head on her shoulder. Finally noticing a sleeping Eleanor, she put them both to bed.

* * *

Through a sleepy warm haze, Eleanor felt a tiny hitch in Caroline's breathing. She stirred, turned her head into the woman who held her tightly, and could feel damp tears on her cheek.

She rolled over to face her. She realized instantly what was happening with Caroline, came more awake as she remembered how scared she must have been tonight. What her unexplained absence must have echoed. She hadn't taken time to acknowledge how it must have been for her, and she was sorry for that. "Oh Caroline. It's okay. It really is. I promise. I've been thoughtless. I'm so sorry."

Caroline nodded, her big blue eyes full of tears and fear, searching for reassurance. "Make it better, Eleanor. Please." She shut her eyes, wrapped her arms around Eleanor's back and pulled her over top of her. She turned her head into Eleanor's hair, took in the scent and the texture of it. Soaked up the weight of Eleanor and the unique feel of her in her arms, how much she loved it, how she'd miss it if she were gone.

Eleanor pulled her arms from under Caroline. She planted her palms at her shoulders but did not pull back. She kept every possible inch of her against the other woman and began to kiss her. "It's alright, darling. It's fine. We're fine. We're safe. I promise."

Caroline pulled her tight again and they breathed together, inhaling, exhaling, calm. Eleanor felt her chest rise and fall, felt her own her center begin to equalize. With it she also felt a growing need to see and hear and taste and touch Caroline in every way she could. She pushed up and met Caroline's eyes, which were desperate to give everything Eleanor wanted of her.

Eleanor took it. She took everything she could that night and asked for more - and Caroline gave it, willingly.


	11. Chapter 11

"Umm I think you've got flour – in a lot of – places – still."

Caroline looked down at her pajamas. Eleanor's observation was spot on. Flour had managed to find its way here and there and, really, everywhere.

The weather outside was fierce. Spring rain pelted down. A cold wind and a warm wet front had collided on Friday night following the horrible Wednesday just past, turning the late-March morning into the start of a day not fit for man or beast.

They'd both taken the suggestion of down-time quite seriously, and had made plans on Thursday to take the weekend to themselves. Flora was with Greg and Jenny and Eleanor's girls were off with their uncle for the weekend. A rare moment for the two women to feel an uninterrupted pace of lives spent together. To connect with themselves and with each other.

Eleanor reached over the island counter and brushed a bit from her shoulder. "It suits you."

"It does not. Stop flattering me."

"Habit. I can't help it. You're so – worthy of flattery." Eleanor arched her brow, broke off a bit of scone and wrapped her lips around it.

"Do you ever, _ever_ stop?"

"That question has been asked and answered. Only when you want me to."

"Don't. Ever." Caroline took a bite of her scone, then frowned. This was their third time through the scone baking process, and while the scientist in her was catching on, there was still – something – Eleanor did to transcend the individual elements. They had two batches in front of them, one from each woman. There was no question of confusing them.

Eleanor caught Caroline scowling at her pastries and smiled. "Practice, Caroline. Practice. Intimacy with your work, and love. The scones can tell – they'll give back what you put in."

"And what is it, _Eleanor_ – that you put in and I don't?" Caroline's tone was stern and her hand was on her hip. This was becoming a matter of competition and ability. There was simply no logical reason that with the same ingredients and process she and anyone else would have differing results. Hers should always be equal, if not superior.

"Hmmmm." Eleanor put on an extremely thoughtful face. "I just – well. Honestly, darling." Epiphany seemed to dawn, and lit her face as she locked eyes with Caroline. "It must be skill." She popped her last bite in her mouth and smiled.

Caroline's stern expression did not change. She remained silent, pinched up the remaining crumbs from her plate and finished her cup of Welsh morning. She looked up from the cup and eyed Eleanor down, who had adopted a very, very earnest expression. She stood and picked up her plate and Eleanor's as well. Silently she crossed the kitchen and stacked them both in the dishwasher.

Eleanor was very busy doing nothing across at the kitchen island. Caroline shut the dishwasher and turned. "Must be skill?" Her blue eyes were feisty.

"Yes. That's really just the only thing that seems to explain it." Eleanor's batted her lashes. She was seemingly unable to contain her accompanying smirk.

"Is it, then? The only explanation _?"_ She advanced slowly as the wind rushed through the trees and drove a pounding rain to clatter at the windows.

Eleanor began to back slowly away, grinning. "Not that you're not terribly skilled in many areas. At many, _many_ things." She fidgeted at a button of her pajama top.

Caroline continued to advance in time with Eleanor's retreat. "I see."

"For instance." Eleanor had reached the curve of the island. Her back still to the countertop, she rounded it and stopped. "I hear that you're _exactly_ what's needed when it comes to changing flats." She gave a serious look and a nod in response to Caroline's amused outrage. "And wine. Really. Wine – you're – well you're just inspired when it comes to choosing the right bottle for any occasion."

"Am I?" Caroline stopped her advance, only steps away. She crossed her arms, and allowed the other woman to continue.

"Absolutely." Eleanor nodded, long brown auburn hair tumbling around her. "And numbers. Forensics. I mean, you're a regular human super-computer. I can't tell you. That little matter of the mis-coded cost allocations down in Manchester from last quarter I couldn't reckon - why you just _nailed_ that, Caroline. I _can't_ thank you enough for your help."

"Did I just _nail_ those numbers, for you, then _Eleanor_?"

"Positively." Eleanor nodded. She took another step back and Caroline matched her.

A dramatic gust came through and a tree rapped at the vaulted windows of the living room. Eleanor looked over for just a moment, and with that Caroline was on her, hands clamped on either hip tightly. She pulled Eleanor against her, resumed her silence and waited.

"Not that, you know, this particular list is _at all_ comprehensive." Eleanor eyes lingered on Caroline's, dropped to the freckles across her nose and then came to rest on the flow of dark blonde at her hairline.

Caroline softened her expression, loosened the thin line of her drawn lips and parted them just a bit, narrowed her eyes but stayed quiet. She kept her hold and pulled Eleanor even closer.

"You've, ehm, many, many other important skills." She felt Eleanor's stomach clutch under the thin cotton of their pajamas. Still, she said nothing.

"Oh for heaven's sake." Eleanor sighed and dove into Caroline. She took her head in both hands and kissed her deeply.

A few moments later, Caroline realized they'd forgotten to take care of that mark on the kitchen ceiling from the champagne cork gone astray at the Christmas party.

* * *

The rain continued through the day. Currently, Caroline's legs were draped over Eleanor's on the couch and they both were enjoying that hard-to find quiet afternoon in pony tails and pajamas with tea and books. Stewart, Eleanor's cat, was making a rare appearance, curled between them.

She carefully kept her eyes on her own book as Eleanor began to hum along with a song that had started over the stereo from the ipod. She was quiet about it, subtle, still absorbed in her own book and likely unaware she was doing it. But it was enchanting, and Caroline felt as you do when you notice a rabbit just paces away, and it hasn't noticed you yet. You don't want to move or even breathe too loudly for fear that it will stop its natural course, happily picking through the grass, sense you, look up in fear, and bolt.

She stayed relaxed and the song went on, Eleanor still humming, beautifully. It ended and she stopped, clearly less interested in the next. Caroline weighed her responses, decided she had an opportunity.

She kept her eyes on her book, expression mild, tone casual and objective. "That was lovely."

Eleanor looked up. "I'm sorry?"

"That song. Lovely. Glad you chimed in." Caroline's eyes still on her book but a smile on her face. _Carefully._

A moment to rewind for Eleanor and then realization on her face. She smiled. "Yes I like that one very much."

Caroline finally looked up and met Eleanor's eyes and returned the smile. "You've a beautiful voice, and I love hearing it. I'm sorry it hasn't been – appreciated – in the past."

"I'm sorry as well."

"You've yet to tell me the whole story, with Emma." She marked her page and set her book in her lap.

Eleanor sighed. "Oh Emma. My albatross."

"You've met John, if I recall?"

"I have." Eleanor looked out the window, smile still on her face but steel creeping into her eyes. "I've suppose I've told you how it started and how it ended. The highlights, anyway. The whats - but not all the _whys_."

She smiled recalling Eleanor's telling of _how_ it ended with Emma. Her extremely awkward response last year during what she'd taken to be a business lunch, as Eleanor had first come out to her via her wife's affair, and subsequently come on to her, making a mess of Caroline and likely putting her just in the spot Eleanor wanted her to be.

"It's almost easy to sum up now," began Eleanor. "Of course marrying Emma was a huge mistake. She made me feel small, and as though _I needed her_ to keep from feeling any smaller than I already did. We were so young when we met. I had no idea what a proper relationship was. I had no idea how to love, or be loved – much less by a woman. And if it hadn't been for June, and then Lily, who knows who I would have become, how long I would have let Emma ruin me?"

The telling seemed rote now for Eleanor, carefully removed. Caroline had the sense she'd done a lot of work to come to any kind of peace with the narrative and the events themselves.

"But when I had those two little girls - when I looked at myself, at my life and my relationship with Emma through this new lens, the perspective of the girls, I didn't like it. I realized the _way_ I was with Emma was wasting _who_ _I_ was as Eleanor."

"Then, of course, I didn't know how to get out of it, how to change things. Emma was the first - only - love I'd known for a very long time, and I couldn't – wouldn't go home and ask for help. The girls were still small. I was just starting my career. I was scared to be a single mother. That woman Emma took up with, the secretary at her firm, that was what I needed, actually. I knew I wasn't about to be a choice among options for Emma for the rest of my life. At her disposal if I were what she wanted. And that _certainly_ wasn't going to be how I raised June and Lily."

With the next revelation she, seemed to challenge Caroline to look away. "I allowed myself to be a choice for you. In fact, I think maybe I _made_ you _chose_ me." She smiled, then turned serious again. "But not for Emma. Not at that point. Not again. She wasn't going to keep shopping around and come to a conclusion about keeping our life and the girls."

Caroline had no response to offer, understanding that her ex-wife had likely been cheating on Eleanor consistently. She was angry at this other woman and what she'd done to someone she'd come to love. Sad that Eleanor had taken so long to see what was plain to her - that she was wonderful.

Eleanor continued. "So I told Emma the affair had to end. If she couldn't finally commit to me, to the marriage, and to the family in a real way, it wasn't going to work." Eleanor's pitch lowered. "And she said 'okay.' And she was gone that week. So many years together and then done, just like that." Eleanor shrugged. "I'm honestly surprised she married me in the first place, agreed we should have the girls. But I think she liked the idea of it. It conformed, in a certain way, to the lives of our parents that she envied. The structure and the tradition and the propriety of it all, even if we were two women."

Caroline nodded. There was an appeal to a life that fit the mold - a strong one. She was finding though, that there was a stronger appeal to living a life that made you happy, whatever form it may take. "Thank you. I've loads more questions, but there are more pleasant ways to spend the afternoon." She immediately raised her index finger. "For instance, tea and biscuits?"

Eleanor looked crestfallen and Caroline smiled. "Be right back."

She returned with, green jasmine for Eleanor and Assam for herself. She rounded the couch and spoke as the other woman looked up. "I have two favors to ask." She set her own cup on the table. "In a particular order. Because I only want you to say yes to the second if you can say yes to the first."

Eleanor raised a brow, laid her book in her lap, and smiled. "Well since I'm so fond of it when you say yes to me, I'll do my best. Shoot."

"Next weekend is spring tea at Mummy and Me, at the library. I was hoping you would join me and Flora, if you're free. It should be much more fun – than last time."

"You mean than last month when Flora's boyfriend Henry had an unfortunate toilet training accident while sitting on my lap?"

Caroline tried not to laugh, but it was impossible. "Ah, right. More fun than – that."

"It's 2pm, yes?" Eleanor reached over to grab and check the calendar on her mobile. "I'd love to." Her eyes twinkled. "Now what's that second favor, then?"

She set her mouth, anticipating a self-satisfied response to her request. She refused to make eye contact. _But those Russian tea cakes are just so damn good._ "Would you ever consider making biscuits?" She steeled herself and looked over at Eleanor, expression already lighting. "Umm. Specifically, the Earl Grey Russian tea cakes?" She looked away again. "They're amazing."

Eleanor sat quietly for a moment with the predicted self-satisfied grin pasted all over her face. "Of course. I'd be delighted. I'm glad you like them so well." Her mouth continued to twitch and her eyes danced along.

"Well I appreciate it. I really do." She waited indulgently, face haughty, for Eleanor to continue, knew she was dying loose a jibe.

Instead, she produced a shy, small smile. Caroline had learned this shyness meant Eleanor was deciding something. She smiled back and waited for her to come to her resolution.

Eleanor stood. "I'll be right back."

"Okay."

She disappeared upstairs. Caroline tried to resume her read, but closed her book, curiosity making it very difficult to focus on Mrs. Dalloway and her daily struggles.

Eleanor reappeared with a gift-wrapped box in hand and perched delicately on the couch.

Caroline crossed her legs and sat up straighter, amused and curious.

Eleanor looked down and picked at the ribbon of the bow. "Well the weather is quite different today - but it's been about a year, Caroline, since I - had you - over for brunch last spring."

Caroline leaned back against the couch, frowning in recollection. _An entire year? Impossible._

Her mind shuffled a deck of images. The early, awkward but thrilling first steps with Eleanor. Crisp sunny days, football games at the park with the girls, afternoon 'naps.' Then into the summer, then Christmas and snow. The thick of crashing into each other, violently, fumbling to figure out if the pieces of who they were together would fit. Finally, back around again to March. _Oh. It has been a year, then, hasn't it?_

Eleanor found herself and looked over to Caroline, commitment to a course of action clear in her eyes. "It's hard to pin an official start, to it really – to us – I suppose you might say. But that was the start of everything, on my end. Beginning to realize how really right I'd been about how much I wanted – maybe, needed, you – to be in my life." She smiled confidently and her usual pert tone reasserted itself. "Well, in my bed, in any case. I really needed that shag. It was a _good_ one."

"'Bloody shagging of your life,' if I recall correctly?" Caroline crossed her arms and smiled. "I rather like being in your life. And in your bed." She winked, and Eleanor handed her the box. She tugged loose the ribbon.

Lid off she parted white tissue paper and pulled out a sky-blue scarf, a silky cotton blend with short, tight fringe. Definitely work appropriate and soft through her fingers. At the bottom near the fringe was "xxx, E" in very small navy embroidery, hard to notice but making it incredibly personal.

She held it between her hands in her lap and smiled back at Eleanor's eager eyes, finding it impossible to keep adoration out of her expression. "Thank you. It's beautiful. It's really lovely."

Eleanor eyes caught on the silver loop at Caroline's throat on her way up to her eyes. "I love seeing you wear something I've given you. It makes me feel like we're still real, like this is still happening. Like I really matter to you. And I've noticed you wear scarves. On the odd occasion."

She wrapped the sky-blue scarf around Eleanor's neck and pulled her close. "I love wearing what you've given me. I do. And we _are_ _real_ , Eleanor. We _are_. I hope you know that. I don't know why you don't feel that every moment we're together, but I do." She pulled the scarf back into her lap, fidgeted with it and looked down. "I could - can - do more, to make you feel that way. You're on my mind, always. Please know that." She looked back up and put a hand on the side of Eleanor's face and smiled, eyes crinkling. "And, why yes, I do enjoy scarves."

Eleanor nodded. They kissed, took their time. Then Caroline sat back, abashed. "I'm sorry. I – I haven't got something for you."

"You've had a thing or two on your mind. I understand. It's a complicated time of year for you."

"It is." Caroline's eyes crinkled again in an amazed smile. "But a year – it's been a year - I can't believe it." She shook her head. She studied Eleanor's brown eyes, the mischief and grace in them, the love she never tried to hide. She took a second to really be present with the woman who had made this past year better than she'd imagined it ever might have been. Brought passion and adventure and discovery in a way she'd thought had disappeared from her life - and she hadn't dared hope to regain.

She reached out and ran her fingers down a lock of Eleanor's long hair and held her eyes. "Oh but I do love you."

* * *

There was nothing but certainty in her eyes now when she said the words Eleanor couldn't hear often enough. Lost were the darting shadows of disbelief and caution. That new-found confidence in their love destroyed and recreated Eleanor every time Caroline said it.

She understood Caroline's effect on her. Accepted that loving her made it easy to give and not think about what Caroline was or wasn't giving back; how being with someone like Caroline made it hard to live without her. The hypnotic effect of her whip-smart, daring eyes and the compulsion to seduce she inspired by always seeming just out of reach. Giving just enough of herself to leave Eleanor wanting more; and there always seemed to _be_ more. And the _more_ always left Eleanor wondering and wanting to see just how deep Caroline went. She thought perhaps very deep; perhaps so deep she might get lost.

It was her pattern, her odyssey. Recreating Margaret, her unapproachable mother, again and again until she got what she needed. Through Emma, and now Caroline. Two very opposite sides of the same coin. Two chances to fix what had gone so terribly wrong so long ago. Eleanor wasn't looking to lose herself again, the way she had with Emma. But she was more than ready to get lost in Caroline, to trust that journey, and what they might find together along the way.

She planted her palm on Caroline's chest and drank up the moment. "Thank you, Caroline. For being in my life." She pushed her backward, tumbled forward, and snuggled next to her on the couch. "Love you."

"Love you back." Caroline pulled her close and they listened to the rain on the windows.


	12. Chapter 12

Eleanor stood and joined Jill in clearing the dinner plates. Caroline made to stand and Eleanor motioned for her to stay, just as Meg piped up. "Caroline. We've managed to learn everything about you that doesn't matter. Tell us what does."

Meg turned her attention from Jill and Eleanor's exit. Caroline judged her an average looking woman in every way, except that the bright spark in her eyes and the silver shine of her short-cropped, curly hair. Both made her delightfully and irresistibly impish. As did her forward personality. Based on her apparel she was also clearly a fan of Harrogate FC - and Manchester. She'd opined at length about Manchester's past performance and speculated about the upcoming season during dinner. Caroline had a sneaking suspicion that Meg and Jane might get on quite well. She'd seen them speak briefly at the fateful Christmas party - perhaps they'd already been plotting outings to football matches.

Eleanor grinned over to Jill on their way through the swinging doorway out of the dining room. Meg and Jill were two friends she actually considered _friends_. Meg was irascible, and Jill was the sweetest take-no-shit woman she'd met. They were a perfectly complementary pair and had been for almost 30 years now. She'd met Meg at an Oxford happy hour not long after she'd moved to Harrogate to start over after Emma. They were about 10 years older than she, and had taken her in like a lost puppy. She loved them dearly and the feeling was clearly mutual. They'd seen her through more than one girlfriend in the past decade, though they were infrequent and hardly garnered the curiosity they'd managed already about Caroline as soon as they'd met her at the happy hour last year. Seeing Eleanor invite Caroline around again, at the Christmas party, had nearly driven them mad with it.

Caroline shrugged. "Well I'm not sure what more I can tell you. We've covered quite a bit of ground."

"You've managed to capture Eleanor's imagination – so you've got to have more than one trick up your sleeve. I mean, look at her. The woman's smitten. Eleanor doesn't get smitten." Meg crossed her arms.

Point proven, apparently. Caroline smiled and blushed, but seized the opportunity. "I think the better question, Meg, since I have you here, is what Eleanor _does_ do. I've only met the infamous and definitive Emma the once, and that was hardly worth mentioning. You know all know my story, so _I'm_ rather curious what my current girlfriend's been up to these many years. And I think you're just the woman to tell me."

Meg smiled. She raised her voice and it easily carried the short distance into the kitchen. "We've got a live one here, Jilly."

Caroline could hear both women laugh in response, imagined the smirk on Eleanor's face.

"Well there was the hilarious incident of the woman with the dog." Meg stood and refilled both their wine glasses. "Settle in, Caroline. I'm in a sharing kind of mood."

Caroline sat back and crossed her own arms, taking her wine glass with her.

* * *

"I like her Eleanor. And Meg likes her." Jill washed and Eleanor dried and stacked.

"Meg likes any woman with blonde hair and long legs." Eleanor rolled her eyes and looked up to Jill, who hardly fit the description. Jill was 5' 2" in heels, second generation Filipino, with sharp dark eyes and stick-straight salt and pepper hair just to her shoulders.

"She does. But I think she likes Caroline particularly." Jill handed the final plate to Eleanor, dried her hands with a kitchen towel.

"Well so do I." Eleanor leaned a hip against the Formica countertop.

"That's also easy to twig. So what's the hold up? And why is this the first time we're meeting her properly?" Jill placed her hands on her hips, looked up at her and stared Eleanor down.

They'd been friends long enough now that Eleanor did not need additional clarity in the question. "She's walking wounded, Jill. A divorcee and then a widow at 47. All within a year of each other. She needs the kid gloves. I've already learned that the hard way. I got excited. I rushed things. It didn't work. And I don't know if - what - I'm ready for."

"Well I think she's old enough and smart enough to recognize a good thing when she sees it. You're a catch. It's been a year. What are her intentions? It's plain to see yours."

Eleanor smiled indulgently at the woman who spoke to her more like a mother than her own. "I taught _you_ my rules, Jill. Not the other way around." She put her own hands on her hips. "But I forgot them myself, for a minute. Look at her and tell me you wouldn't have done the same."

Jill laughed. "Maybe not me. Too posh for my taste. But our Meg - she would have been done in straightaway."

"Well she's worth waiting for. And I think we've already made significant progress. I'm more than happy to settle in and just let things develop in their own course."

"What's this? Our Eleanor decides to let another woman take the steering wheel? Now I _know_ you're in for it." Jill stepped forward and poked Eleanor in the stomach.

* * *

"So she texts both me and Jill, from the café. Says we're to call her in 10 minutes. Says she'll let it ring through the first time, but we're to be sure and call right back, let it ring again, just let her talk when she finally answers." Meg smiled and shook her head in recollection. "Well Jill, she's not up for it. But I think it's a lark and I'm game, so I do it. Wait 10 minutes exactly and call her up. Well it rings through like she says, and I leave a voicemail for good measure. Then I hang up and call right back, let it ring on. She answers, on maybe the 8th ring this time, all hurry and concern in her voice."

"' _Yes – Meg – what is it? Everything all right?_ '" Meg made a telephone gesture, did a bad impression of Eleanor, but Caroline caught on.

"So I just say, 'Hello Eleanor.' And she starts talking, answering questions like I've been asking them - "

"' _Oh well are you OK? Is Jill OK? She's with you? Are you – oh – you're stuck, then? Well that's awful. I'm so sorry. I don't know – oh? Really? Well, yes, I suppose. But I'm just – oh. Yes, I see. Of course. That makes sense_.'"

"So then she pauses, on the other end of the line." Meg's eyes alight in recollection. "Starts talking to this woman, telling her about how her friends are stuck with a bum ride in Skipton and needing to get home to _their_ sick dog with diabetes. And here's me, sitting right over there in our living room, laughing like all get out at Eleanor's contrite tone, thinking of this poor woman at a café with no clue."

"So Eleanor starts up again. _'Oh sure. Yes. Right. Well I can head out in a few minutes. I understand. I'm terribly sorry Meg. What a situation. OK. OK. No. Just text me the address. I'll be there when I can.'"_

"Then she clicks off without another word, and I look over to Jill and we shake our heads, because that's just our Eleanor. Haughty as ever and can't stand to be bothered if it's not her cup of tea. Though I will say it's the only time she's turned that trick. At least with us." Meg leaned over and clinked glasses with Caroline. "So you see, we're already quite impressed with you. No get out of jail free phone calls."

Eleanor and Jill came through, Eleanor having caught the very tail end of the conversation as she and Jill neared the dining room.

"There's nothing wrong with valuing my time highly," retorted Eleanor.

"Oh you're just stuck up, dear. But we love you anyway." Meg pinched Eleanor's hip on the way by, and received a slap on the hand for it.

Caroline sat back, entirely amused and having a wonderful time.

Jill piped up in Eleanor's defense. "Now you tell the whole story Meg, or you let Eleanor."

"Thank you, Jill." Eleanor sat regally and picked up her own wine glass, clearly ready to begin her defense. She turned to Caroline. "Wipe that smirk off your face. You hardly know what it's about."

Caroline smiled wider and laughed, and Meg nodded over to her.

Eleanor came back hot. "You weren't there. Any of you. So you've hardly room to speak. And as I've said before, she made a reservation for a table of three. She _sat_ her _dog_ at the third. She ordered the dog an _entrée,_ for God's sake. I love dogs. I do. But she talked to the dog more during brunch than she did to me."

"Well is that indictment of you or the dog? I mean, what kind of dog _was it_ , anyway?" Caroline intoned sweetly.

"A Pomeranian. And enough from you. Unless you're holding out on me, you did not have to spend years paddling about the rather shallow dating pool in Harrogate. You've no idea what it does to a woman. Why I was positively _desperate_ by the time I gave you a chance." Eleanor finished her wine and set it back on the table with particular force and flourish.

* * *

Meg and Jill both laughed at the two women shooting darts across their dining room table. They looked at each other and didn't need to speak their approval. Between her nuclear misfire with Emma, 'that cheating bitch,' as Meg referred to her, and the carnival of mis-queues along the way, most ending at least three years ago, Eleanor seemed to rather have just quit with women not long after the unfortunate dog at brunch incident. They were more than glad to see a woman like Caroline swing Eleanor back up into the saddle.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N - regrets for the myriad typos. I never manage to see them until it's too late. I'm my own worst editor._

* * *

Lawrence took in the training room at Harrogate Metro. Same yellow lights and white walls, floors, as the lobby. Those were the only things that were the same, behind the doors that locked.

His mum's lesbian friend Jane was stopped in to see him. She sat next to him, perched at the edge of her chair, as he looked anywhere but at her. Two other boys and a girl, scattered in no particular order, loitered on assorted plastic chairs facing a white board. None of the others was public school. The boys clearly knew each other. They chuckled now and then, heads together and occasional glance at Lawrence. The girl sat attentively, focused on no one particular thing but generally paying attention to everything. She did not smile at Lawrence, but was clearly curious about why Jane was in the room.

Lawrence, for the first time, realized that he felt a little out of his depth. He returned his attention to the conversation with Jane as she spoke.

"Sure. That's you figuring out that being police isn't like tele. It's not like what you imagined, not at all. It's real. You don't even have to put on a tactical vest to figure that out, do you?"

Lawrence nodded.

"It's regiment and routine. Because training is what we have, Lawrence. And each other. That's what we have, that's what you'll get, that the rest of the lot outside the building doesn't. I think it'll suit you fine, but then that's just me." Jane smiled over at him, nudged him with her shoulder. "Don't worry. We all have a first day."

"Yeah. Sure. OK." He looked down, looked over at Jane and grinned. "How was yours?"

"My first day?"

"Yeah. Your first day." He puffed up a little and nudged her back. _'S'pose I see what mum was seeing there. She's pretty. Seems quick to catch on.'_

"Got my finger damn near lopped off." She kept a neutral expression.

Lawrence raised both eyebrows, trying to determine if she were serious. "No way."

"Yes way." She opened her palm to him, and he saw a C-shaped mark circling her entire left index finger.

"Wicked."

"Wicked. Some idiot strung out on dust. I was anxious to have him in the cell and be shut of him. Smelled like the dumpster of a fish market." She met his eyes, her own smiling and his wide. "My eyes were watering. My sergeant was standing at the door, chuckling, watching me try to wrestle this guy. Usually they're quiet, when you get to the cell. They're as done with you as you are with them."

"And he had a knife?"

"Nope. I had a knife. I was trying to cut off his restraints. I should have used clippers. But I didn't. Got flustered."

"Why didn't your sarge help you out, you know, say somthin'?"

"Gotta learn how to fly, little bird." Jane gave Lawrence a meaningful look. "At least that's what Sergeant Hostas said. George didn't mind me being a girl, but he didn't not mind. Mostly he was interested in good police, wasn't sure yet that women made good police."

Lawrence sat, still silent.

"So there's blood everywhere. All over me, all over the guy – Frank was his name – and George is laughing. 'Holy shit, Janey,' he says, and finally steps in. Sends me out of the cell to get patched. Finishes things himself and then comes back to where I am, couple guys trying to hold it together with bandages and get me in a car. Shoves 'em off and loads me up himself."

Lawrence nodded again.

"So we're on our way, lights and sirens, and I'm sitting there, looking kind of like you do now, except very pale, kind of green. Very - " she tipped her hand side to side. "And he says, 'what you do wrong?' And I look over at him, eyes really wide. And I say, 'I cut my bloody finger off, that's what.' He laughs and looks over at me, still doing 80k down the street, one hand on the wheel. 'It's not cut off, all the way. You'll be fine.'" He looks back at the road, says one more thing and then lets me wallow in my own shame and self-pity. "'And that's not it - what you did wrong, though you won't do that again. You didn't ask for help, Janey. You gotta ask for help, when you need it. You wan'ta prove yourself, and that's just fine. But know when to ask for help, girl. The right folk will always give it, and the wrong ones, well, you want to know who those are, don't you?'"

He didn't know what to say, except, _"Shit."_

She kept on. "I see you thinking about what I'm saying. And I want you to. Because your mum, she doesn't always ask for help when she needs it. And that's fine for her. But it's not going to be fine for you." Her eyes weren't merry, they were serious. "Are you hearing me, Lawrence?"

"Yeah. Yeah I am." He nodded again.

"Good." She patted his knee and stood. "And it's yes, not yeah. And ma'am. Yes ma'am."

He kept nodding, couldn't think what else to do. "Yes ma'am."

* * *

Lawrence came through to the kitchen. He offered up a high five to Flora, which was returned with a smile.

Caroline accepted that was about all he could muster with her, but he also smiled back on occasion, and it was good enough for her. For now. "And how was your workshop?" She tried to keep the anxiety out of her eyes, knowing it frustrated him.

"Training. First training. And it was good." He grabbed the milk from the fridge and she shot him a warning glance. He managed to find a glass.

"Good. Good." Caroline nodded, tried to smile. "Good to hear. How many of you are in the class?"

"Looks like four in all. Three boys with me, and a girl."

"Is that small-ish?"

"Nah. Average I guess. No one seemed put out about it."

"OK. _Good._ Fine." She nodded enthusiastically, no real smile - but she was trying.

"Yeah. Good. Fine." He pantomimed her head movements. "I like it. A lot, already, I think." He finished his milk, set down his glass. Another look, and into the dishwasher it went. "Your friend stopped by. Jane."

"Did she then? Nice of her."

"Yeah, it was actually. I think I like her alright."

He met her eyes and she saw him being honest. She wanted to give a huge sigh of relief, tell him to make her his newest, best mate. Knew that was exactly the wrong thing to say.

"Glad to hear it. What would you like for dinner?"

"Takeaway?"

"No such luck. You'll have to deal with what I turn out. Which, on occasion, garners compliments." She walked past and poked him in the chest on the way.

"From who? Lily and June – belong to your girlfriend? Sure. Bet they're full of compliments." He chuckled and Caroline's patience expired.

"Meaning?"

"Well what else they going to say?"

 _My god – sometimes he's like an evil hybrid of Celia and John. And if he wants to act the part of John, I'll damn well act the part of Caroline._ She placed her hands on her hips and stared; plucked a wooden spoon from the jar on the counter and handed it to him. "You've got an hour."

"What's this then?" He took it reflexively.

"To prepare dinner. An hour. You, me, and Flora. And I don't envy you, because she's decided to try on being _picky_." She walked past him and he stared after her. "I'll be working in the study. _Try_ to keep the noise down. _Thank you_!"

Lawrence threw the spoon down on the counter. "Women."


	14. Chapter 14

Dinner the following week with Meg, Jill, Zoe and Jane, and of course Eleanor, had turned into a drink at the bar down the way. One drink had turned into two and a jovial, warm environment that drew Caroline in and kept a wide smile on her face throughout the night. She liked Eleanor's friends. Didn't mind that they might become her friends, maybe, in time.

"Not a one?" Meg's eyes twinkled and she looked Caroline up and down. "S'pose you're not the sort to have embarrassing stories of misadventure. Pity." She laughed and looked over to Jill, who gave her a scolding swat.

Caroline, who was having a superior time – and just finishing her second Manhattan – laughed right along. She put on a pious look. "On the other hand, perhaps I've just been too busy for misadventure." Her entendre was clear.

"Oh girl. I do like you." Meg offered her pint in cheers.

Eleanor intercepted with her own pint before Caroline could meet it. "I can vouch for that." She winked and the entire table laughed enthusiastically.

"Fine. Let's have a nice old fashioned round of me asking awkward pointed questions then." Meg finished her cider and flagged for another. "So then. Jane." She leaned both forearms on the table, focusing her significant presence on the Detective. "First time. Let's hear it."

Jane finished her bottle of ESB, slammed it on the table. Glanced over at Zoe and gave her a cocky grin before smiling sweetly.

"Sixteen. Hay loft of my parent's barn, of course. What else do you expect of a shy country lass?" Jane batted her eyelashes innocently and everyone had another good laugh. "Her name was Pippa Miller, and she was cute and fresh as they come. Reminds me of Zoe, now that I think about it." She gazed around the table proudly and decided to add to the act by placing her arm around Zoe possessively.

Meg pointed at her and shook her finger. "Shy country lass - my arse. Good for you." She glanced about for a next victim, easily landed on Caroline sitting next to Zoe.

Caroline was unsure what would be more effective in deflecting the unwanted attention - a show of confidence or a silent plea for mercy. She tried both consecutively.

To no avail. Meg leaned back in. "You. Queen Mum. Spill."

"Spill what?" Caroline wished her drink were not finished and she had something for her hands to do, and somewhere else for her eyes to rest than Meg's insisting stare or the rest of the table's lack of empathy. She looked across to Eleanor who grinned and shrugged.

Meg crossed her arms and waited.

"Well if you're keen on hearing all about John's learning curve, you're in for a long story." Caroline countered, hopelessly flailing.

Jill took up the standard. "No one at this table wants to hear about anything that transpired between you and your ex-husband. And now I'm even more curious."

"Well." Caroline picked apart a cocktail napkin. "It was with my wife, Kate." She smiled in recollection, and through the joy in the memory found a new confidence. "It was absolutely lovely. It was the best first time I could have asked for." Her voice was stronger by the word and she finished with a smile.

Caroline suspected the trick Eleanor had been up to, ignoring her silent pleas, and decided to try a new tack. "How about you, darling? I don't think we've covered that?" She locked eyes with Eleanor and pushed.

The rest of the table raised eyebrows and exchanged glances.

"You and Jane would be the only ones here not privy to that sad tale." Eleanor shook her head.

Caroline didn't adopt a yielding posture.

Eleanor sighed. "I was eighteen. It was Emma, of course." She leaned back against the booth, rapped at the top of the table with her fingers. "In the bathroom at a house party for some pals at school. She'd been flirting with me for months at that point. Leading me on but never offering me a safe way in."

Meg ran a hand at the base of her pint. "You don't need to tell the rest, love."

Eleanor nodded. "No. I do." She cleared her throat. "We went to the party together. I had – a bit – to drink. Excused myself to the loo and she followed me right in. Backed me up against the door, locked it and started kissing me. I felt like I was going to explode, like the top of my head was going to fly right off. It was something I suspected I wanted for months, but the solid – the real concept of it – being with another woman – terrified me. So when she finally took the initiative I almost died with relief and excitement. My world changed in an instant, like someone flipping the channel on the tele."

She paused as the waitress returned with a cider for Meg. Everyone at the table signaled for another round.

"I thought it was going to be a good and proper feel-up, the start of something. That we would become 'girlfriends.'" Eleanor laughed. It was a brittle sound. "So I leaned in and we started up in earnest. But it didn't end the way I thought it might. All of a sudden Emma dropped to her knees. She closed the deal right then and there, before I even knew what was what."

The tone of Eleanor's recollection rang bittersweet. Her face was set in a wan smile. "She stood up and smiled. She ran a hand down my cheek. It was almost affectionate. I just stood there trying to make sense of it while she tidied up. She turned back and kissed me again, still smiling suggestively, and lord help me, I still thought she was the sexiest creature walking the earth." She looked at her empty bottle and shook her head. "Her hair was in a ponytail. I remember wishing it had been down around her face. She reached for the door and I backed away so she could open it. She said 'ta' over her shoulder, and I said 'ta.' I closed the door after her and did what I'd come to do."

Caroline was stunned, couldn't think of thing to say. The rest of the table was equally still.

Eleanor carried on. "About an hour later I asked her to leave the party with me. I was ready to go and I hoped she might want to – talk." She smiled and chuckled, another sound that didn't fit the moment. "She linked arms with another woman – a friend of ours, whispered something in her ear that made the other girl blush, and said she wasn't ready to go. Told me to call her whenever."

The waitress arrived with the fresh round and Eleanor grabbed her bottle. She shrugged her shoulders and offered up a round for a cheers, given half-heartedly. "And that was my first time."

Jill leaned over and gave her an encouraging nudge with her shoulder.

Meg picked up her pint and pointed it at Caroline. "Well I'd feel all kinds of busted up over your sad tale, Eleanor my love, if it weren't for you rapidly making up for lost time with the hot little blonde number in the corner there."

Eleanor tipped her bottle back and widened her eyes at Caroline. "Mmmmm. I suppose I wouldn't feel very sorry for me either."

* * *

"Oh come on Jane – we have got to dance to this." Zoe gabbed Jane by the hand and dragged her off and through the mass on the floor, disappearing into the center of the crowd. Jane cast a bedraggled glance back to Caroline, who shrugged.

The group had migrated to the club side of the bar, and the music had turned decidedly current. Along with the change, Jill and Meg had said their goodbyes.

Caroline was increasingly skeptical about the whole lesbian bar thing. Well, other than how the lights played over Eleanor, the ridiculous volume of the music, the drinks, the dark, the hypnotic effect of being engulfed by the sheer number of women packed into one place, and how it all insisted that she completely forget herself and her inhibitions that seemed increasingly arcane.

Confusion covering her expression, she turned to yell at Eleanor above the racket. "Forgive me, but I'm unclear about how one dances to this song?" The only words she could make out were 'on the floor' and 'work,' but it could have been 'out the door' and 'twerk,' if that were a word at all.

Eleanor inclined her head toward two women within view. "Like two scared pre-teens looking for a way to cop a feel and afraid to actually do so."

"Oh." Caroline replied with a single, brisk, nod. It wasn't exactly a song she knew how to dance to, and dancing in public wasn't tops on her list of Friday night activities. But a goal had come to mind, and she had an idea about getting exactly where she wanted to be with Eleanor tonight. She handed off her beer. "I'm off to the loo. Watch my drink?"

"Of course."

Half-way through the jostling throng she glanced back. Eleanor was leaned across the bar and engrossed with the bartender, a girl with half a head of bright pink hair. The other half was shaved and covered in tattoos. She imaged the conversation having something to do with Eleanor asking the girl what her mum thought about her haircut - in a way that made the girl feel flattered and scolded all at the same time.

She fished around in the back pocket of her jeans and discovered what she hoped would be enough money to bribe the DJ, or tip her, or whatever. She assumed clubs were clubs through the ages and winced as she adjusted for inflation. Beyonce was going to cost a lot more than Pat Benatar had.

She offered up her request and a smile to a dark-skinned, dark-eyed, dark-haired woman covered in gold chains, who had to be something-generation from India with a thick German accent.

"Didn't see that coming from you, blondie. But ya. I'll remix it for you love, you got it."

That's at least what Caroline assumed she heard, and she shouted, "Thank you." The woman already had her head bent back over the table, one hand in the air and one on her headphones.

Caroline made her way back to Eleanor, who'd taken a 'holder's fee' from her beer, and Caroline ordered another round.

When anything resembling a melody came through the thumping, Caroline's song caught Eleanor's attention immediately.

"It's certainly not for dancing, either, but this song - Caroline. If you're ever wondering how to get my trousers off promptly, give this a play."

 _'Remember those walls I built, well, baby, they're tumbling down. And they didn't even put up a fight, they didn't even make a sound...'_

"Is that so?" Caroline pushed her lips out and tilted her head. "Have to remember that."

Eleanor pursed her own lips and stared at Caroline hard before her low, suspicious response. "How did you know about this song in the first place? I've never heard you say a word about Queen Bey, as June and Lily refer to her."

"Someone leaves her iPod in my car on the regular, and there may or may not be a list on it titled, 'Caroline.' And this may or may not be the first song on it."

 _'I found a way to let you win, but I never really had a doubt. Standing in the light of your halo, I got my angel now...'_

"Mmmmm hmmmmm. We'll talk about your snooping - later." Eleanor quickly scanned the room, then turned to the bartender. She leaned in and whispered something Caroline missed. She took Caroline's hand and they skirted the dance floor.

She stopped at a booth at the back, clearly for two but jammed with four rowdy young women. Eleanor stepped up directly in front of the group.

"Hello." They looked up in surprise as she spoke. "The bartender has two drinks for each of you who makes her way up directly." She cocked her thumb and inclined her head. They smiled around at each other, and a freckled, stocky girl with the most glorious, shining-ginger pompadour Caroline had ever seen responded.

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Now scoot, the lot of you. This is a one-time offer."

They piled out quickly. Eleanor dragged Caroline down next to her. She set her own beer bottle down and grabbed Caroline's, sliding it adjacent. She didn't wait for Caroline to catch up, simply went at her like one of the frisky pre-teens she'd pointed to the on the floor earlier.

 _'It's like I've been awakened, every rule I had you break it. It's the risk that I'm taking, I ain't never gonna shut you out…'_

Caroline was at least half-way to drunk and flying high, so decided this was all completely appropriate. That perhaps it would be okay to forget herself for just a moment. And Eleanor's hands were already where she'd hoped they'd be spending most of the night. Maybe just not in a booth at a cheap lesbian dive bar. Still….

 _'I swore I'd never fall again, but this don't even feel like falling. Gravity can't forget, to pull me back to the ground…'_

It might have been the dark of the corner. It might have been the music at full volume and consuming her in an unfamiliar way that blended into everything Eleanor had her feeling, and wanting. Caroline became completely oblivious to everything and gave herself back to Eleanor, found herself totally absorbed by it all, snogging enthusiastically and dashing around second base with her girlfriend, sometime near one am, at a bar in Harrogate she'd previously not even known existed. Perhaps this might be how she'd end up with an embarrassing story of misadventure to relay to Jill.

 _'You're everything I need and more, it's written all over your face. Baby, I can feel your halo, pray it won't fade away…'_


	15. Chapter 15

"So, it's a little more than tea cakes, but can I ask a favor?"

"Well your tea cakes are stunning, Eleanor," replied Caroline. "I wouldn't dismiss their favor-value so quickly."

"You're a dear. But this is a real favor."

"Shoot." Caroline propped the mobile against her shoulder and signed a handful of papers at her desk while Beverley waited, and smiled up at her. Caroline smiled a lot these days.

* * *

"I'm hoping you can stay with the girls for two nights, week after next. I'm to go to London, Ken's set that I need to be there in person. We're debriefing that debacle with Williams, and he's said he wants to do a complete review of the entire northern operation. I think it's rubbish, but – he's the boss. I think it shook him up more than it did me." Eleanor rolled her eyes and gazed through the grey drizzle outside her office window to the east. She very much enjoyed wondering what Caroline was up to across town. Mostly wondered what shoes she'd be wearing that day. If she'd gone with a button down and silver jewelry, or a sweater set and pearls. She focused on the drizzling raindrops running down the window. Definitely sweater set.

She realized there had been a pause. _Have I mis-stepped?_

* * *

Caroline nodded back at Beverley and returned her attention to the phone. "Ah – yes – week after next – which days?" She was flattered – and a little curious. Zoe was Eleanor's go-to for out of town trips and overnights.

"Wednesday and Thursday. I'm back first flight on that Friday."

"Zipping around in the corporate jet?" She needled Eleanor at any chance about working for pharma. Eleanor insisted it took all kinds. Hadn't she been the Board member, all along, 'nipping at Caroline's heels' over tuition and access?

"Hardly. Regional sardine tin express. Cheaper than re-paying my mileage. And my time is exceptionally valuable."

"Hold on. I can't see why not, but let me double check." She took another moment to feel thrilled that Eleanor had asked. The girls had been very good to Caroline, and it seemed they all took the 'team' concept very seriously. She and Eleanor had swapped supervision with all the girls, including Flora here and there, but neither had attempted the single handed three-child hat trick overnight. "Yep. It's set. And I'm happy to do it Eleanor – I'm glad you've asked."

I'm actually a little jealous. You and June are a dynamic duo in my kitchen."

"Well we'll miss you. I may be good, but I'm still the B team. Maybe a little practice will make perfect, though." She paused. "I think I'm really beginning to click with June and Lily."

"Thanks. And by the way, what are you wearing today?"

Caroline blushed and looked up, as though Beverley might have overhead. Eleanor was still able to put her off-guard. But she was beginning to recover much more quickly. "There's one way to find out."

"Be careful what you wish for, Caroline. You know I've had my eye on that conference table for years."

Caroline blushed again and gave a point to Eleanor on the round. "Grey pencil skirt. Navy sweater set."

"Don't hold out on me, darling."

"The crème satin Manolos I borrowed last week."

"Divine."

"See you day after next?"

"Yep. Bye bye." Caroline clicked off and turned back to her computer, smiling and wondering what Eleanor might be wearing today on the other side of Harrogate, and the moment she'd get to find out. She was much better at delayed gratification than her girlfriend.

* * *

"Why don't you like your mum? She seems nice enough."

"Oy. You ever crossed her, yet?" Lawrence gave June a rueful glance as they queued for lunch.

"Well no. I can't see why I would."

"Right. You never crossed a street, you and that sister of yours." Lawrence inclined his head over to Lily at the other side of the hallway.

"More flies with honey, Lawrence. You're a prat." June rolled her eyes and turned back toward the head of the line.

"No need for name calling." Lawrence bumped her with his shoulder. They'd been in the same form for years at Sulgrave Heath, and it was hard not to at least be friendly with kids you'd known since they were puking on their own shoes after a good spin on the merry-go-round.

June put on a properly haughty Strathclyde face. "I call it as I see it. So why did you move in with your dad? Seriously. I gather he's kind of a jerk."

"He can be. But he's a total laugh riot, and I can pretty much do whatever I want, whenever I want. Try that on with Headmistress Caroline and see how far you get. Love and like are different things."

"Seems like you like to boss people around enough, joining the police cadet program." June smiled.

"Eh no. More about doing what I want. No one'll be telling me what I ought to be about. All the action'll be a bonus." Lawrence gave a cocky smile back and shrugged his shoulders.

June laughed at him and turned back forward as they began to file in.

Lawrence caught up with her. "So like, your mum and my mum – they're kind of hot and heavy."

"You're gross. And I think it's sweet. Mum's like totally in to her."

"Yeah. So like do you think they'll try to move in or something? My mum had Kate moved in before I could blink; keeping an eye on her. Then it was two women telling me what to do constantly."

"God what's your problem Lawrence? You're positively sensitive about women." June scoffed and Lawrence blushed.

"Psh. I can't see how you do it in that hen house. Is it ever quiet?"

"It is. And it's quite fun. Anyway. I don't think mum will be keen on moving. She loves our house. And Lily's got another year after me, before she heads to University."

"Well good luck to them then. Mum treats her house like it's a horcrux."

June smiled, raised her eyebrow and shrugged. "I guess. See you." She headed off to meet with her girlfriends, clustered at a table across the hall.

"Ya." Lawrence spotted Angus and split off.

* * *

Lily and June exchanged glances, and Lily looked up from her plate to Caroline. "So, umm, Caroline, are you and mum going to move in together?"

Caroline had caught the furtive looks between the two on Thursday as they'd prepped dinner, Eleanor in London. She had been waiting for something interesting to come up. But she'd not really expected this particular line of inquiry. She cleared her throat.

"We haven't talked about it, Lily. I don't know that I can answer that question."

"Well do you want to?"

Shit. Years of working with children and teenagers could still never prepare you for them asking the most disarming questions. They always seemed to get exactly to the spot you least wanted them poking at. "I'd love to spend more time with your mum. And with you two."

"You haven't exactly answered the question." Lily responded with a neutral tone and continued to eat her salad.

 _They are Eleanor's daughters, aren't they?_ Caroline looked over to June, who was busy paying rapt and earnest attention to Caroline's answers. So that's how they work it. Lily pushes and June observes. God how does Eleanor manage them? At least they're good natured. I'd be sunk if they got up to mischief. Lawrence and William couldn't escape a paper bag together.

"I suppose I haven't. And it's an excellent question, though I'm not sure it's completely your business." Her tone was stern, but she smiled.

June and Lily exchanged eye contact. June smiled up at Caroline. "Well I think you do. Want to. Both of you. God mum would die. And Flora can have my room when I go to University in the fall." She smiled over to where the subject sat, happily smashing and eating peas. Flora squinted her eyes and smiled back at June.

Caroline was absolutely bewildered and working not to show it. "Seems like you've got it all sorted." She picked her wine glass and hid behind it.

"I wouldn't mind it, Caroline." Lily batted her lashes, green eyes the shape of Eleanor's and just as lovely.

"Let's take it one step at a time, girls. For now perhaps we can convince your mum to leave us all unattended more often."

The girls exchanged a final set of discreetly meaningful looks and went to work on their dinners. June managed to keep Flora's sippy cup within reach but out of flying fork range, leaning over on occasion to lend a hand and managing to help make sure more peas ended up in her mouth than on the floor.

* * *

"No – mum – I know I saw the bag on the table at the entry. Just before I set off." Caroline smiled and shook her head, juggling the mobile and Flora as she was putting her down for the night.

"Well it's not there now, love. And I'd like to have it to take up to Calamity in the morning. We'll be off first thing, and of course you won't be here, so I've got to find it tonight."

Caroline had purchased two books for Calamity at the library rummage sale and left them for Celia that morning to take to Halifax.

"If it's not there, it's not there. I'm not driving back to the house tonight to look for it. Ask Alan if he's seen them."

"He's at the paper, settled in. I don't think that I need to disturb him for this."

"But you'll ring me up?"

"Because I rely on you, now don't I?" Celia's tone was mild on the other line. She'd managed a good run with Caroline, whose own mild nature of late was keeping the two women on the level.

"I suppose you do. I'm glad."

"And you know it's been an adjustment, you over at your friend's house all the time now. With our Flora." Celia's tone continued to be neutral.

Caroline refused to be baited. "I do spend a night or two here every week or so. And she's my girlfriend mum."

"Well I know that. But there's no need to be vulgar." Caroline could hear her mum moving through the house on the other side, rummaging as she went.

"It's not vulgar, mother. In the same way it's not vulgar to call Alan your husband."

"I suppose." Doubt clung to Celia. But she'd been nothing but nice to Eleanor. Caroline suspected if she tried otherwise Eleanor would find a way to be equally surly, in her own graceful way.

"And you know Eleanor's not going anywhere, as far as I'm concerned. So you can keep getting used to her."

"Here they are."

"The bag – with the books? Where did you finally find them, then?" Caroline closed the door to the guest room and walked down the dark hallway to Eleanor's room.

"You must have moved them to the table by the back door. To remind me to take them."

"I did no such thing, but I'm glad you've got them." Caroline frowned and reached back to take off her heels.

"Well mystery solved, in any case." Celia grabbed the books and headed back to the carriage house.

"All right. Good. Anything else, mum?"

"No love. Have a good night."

"You too. Give Alan a kiss for me. Ta."

"Ta."

Caroline clicked off the mobile and set it on the bureau. She took off her earrings and touched the silver loop at the hollow of her throat, caught sight of Eleanor's room in the mirror. She paused and moved her eyes about the reflection. She'd not yet really noticed herself operating in Eleanor's house without her here. It hadn't even crossed her mind really that she'd been moving through Eleanor's space, unaccompanied, without a second thought. She knew where everything was, how everything worked, and it had been an easy two days with the girls.

The conversation with them at dinner crossed her mind and she frowned.

She slid into bed, and realized she'd automatically gone to the right side, near the window. Her side. She frowned again. She stared up at the ceiling for a minute before closing her eyes. She remembered the very first time she'd woken up here. And then the very first time she'd snuck downstairs. Making tea for Eleanor and wondering what it would be like if she got used to another woman's kitchen and home. Got to know it and started to feel less like a guest and more like a part of things. She finally smiled. _'I suppose now I know what it's like. I suppose it's sort of thrilling. And terrifying. But yep. Thrilling.'_ She thought back to feeling foreign in Eleanor's home and arms, a sensation long gone. _'Nope. I don't think this was ever just endorphins.'_

* * *

"Ken. I can't. At least not - now." Eleanor shook her head. She'd wondered, it had been a possibility, that Ken might approach her with this. "I won't leave while Lily's in school."

"I've got another year, two at most, Eleanor, but then I'm done. And I want you to take over as CEO. There's no one better for the job."

"I would to say I agree with you about that." Eleanor met his confident gaze with one of her own. "You and Madhur and I built this place – I came in late, but we really did it together. With your leadership. Your vision. Those are big shoes."

Ken glanced down at her feet. "I'd say you can do pretty much anything you'd like in _those_ shoes, Eleanor."

She smirked. "They're an advantage men just don't have." She might tie up her hair, button up her shirts and don skirts in the London office, but she couldn't help the flashy heels.

He shook his head, had always enjoyed Eleanor's flair. Enjoyed working with her as well, and what she'd brought to his small start-up ten years ago. "In any case, you're going to need to be in London the majority of the time. Not just while you're ramping up to the position, but for the long haul. You know that. We made that decision together years ago, to move HQ. You'd really need to move down here, full time."

Eleanor nodded, her lips a thin line. "I know. It's just. It's bad – timing, Ken."

He gave her a knowing, pitying look. "That woman you've been seeing."

"Yes. Caroline."

"Eleanor – you're the one who told me that women ruin careers – and lives. That's not an exact quote, but close enough."

"Not this one."

"I said that about my second wife, Patricia. And you're the one who called me a fool for beautiful blondes."

"You weren't the fool, Ken. Patricia was. And Caroline's nobody's fool."

"Well neither are you. And we both know the mistake it would be to turn down this opportunity. Anadyne is yours if you want it, Eleanor."


	16. Chapter 16

"Oh Alan. I am glad you came into our lives. It's changed my mum. And I'm grateful to you." Caroline sat across from the man she'd come to accept – or embrace depending on how much wine she's had, as her stepfather. They sat warm and snug in a pub, Caroline waiting eagerly to welcome Eleanor home from London.

"Well love, I'll take it. But it's been _my_ pleasure. The lot of it – you included." Alan smiled and lifted his pint, met Caroline halfway and they both smiled. "And when did you start drinking beer, then, Caroline? Never took you for a Bass lady."

"Quite a bit about me has changed in the last few years." _Like Jane selling me on the merits of a hefty beer on a cold day._

He winked at her. "True enough, love. And I'm sorry not all of it has been easy. I miss Kate. She was rare." He looked at her earnestly. "But I do like that new lady you've been seeing – your Eleanor. She's a firecracker."

She wiped a bit of foam from her lip and smiled as she did so. "She is at that." They sat in companionable silence for a moment, and something that had been percolating at the back of Caroline's mind came to the surface. "Alan – how's mum been lately?"

He shrugged. "Same, I suppose. Nothing I've really noticed. Why do you ask?"

"She's seemed rather absent-minded. And I wouldn't usually describe her that way."

"Well now that you _do_ mention it, I suppose since the surgery she's seemed a half-step off, at times. Hadn't really noticed."

"Well I thought I'd ask." She eyed him sharply. "But you'll tell me, if that changes? If you do – notice – something? I'm a bit worried, I think." She fussed at her own coaster.

He frowned and turned his pint. "Don't like to think of it. But I would, if I did."

"Good. Fine. Okay. And – Alan – you will tell me if you two want to make a permanent move – to either Harrogate or Halifax? I'll back it, either way."

"Yes, love. Though we're perfectly happy now. Best of both worlds. I love Gillian, and your mum loves you. Couldn't imagine not having you both right beside us." His eyes twinkled, but his face grew serious. "And then of course Flora and Calamity. Well they're little pieces of sunshine. Your mum, she wouldn't say much about it, but it's a cold fish can resist a toddler. And Celia…" He paused, took a sip. He smiled in reflection, and it wasn't hard to see what Celia meant to him. "She wouldn't go on about anything. But if she did, well, just now I think she would about both girls – even your Flora – which I know is a bit of a warm front."

Caroline looked down. She knew it was the truth, and she'd seen how Celia had taken to Flora. But to hear him acknowledge it made it real for her. _He_ meant something real to her, and he'd been the one to salvage the dying embers of the relationship she'd had with her mum.

She thought back to those months right before Celia and Alan had reunited. Her mother had been stuck. All she could see was the past, and how her father had done such a number on her life. She'd been a bitter old woman – in no uncertain terms. Now? Well, now, behind what had always been Celia, Caroline could see love, and hope, and contentment. Alan had brought that to her mum. Love had brought that to her mum.

She nodded slowly. "I do see that. And I'm glad for it." A smile began in her eyes as she met his. She snuffled and hunted around for a change of subject. "Lawrence has started up training for police cadets." She took a longer drink of stout.

"Oh has he now!" Alan's face lit up. "I think it's just right. Just what the lad needs." He inclined his head toward her, and she remained lackluster. "Now I know it worries at you. And it should. But it's a fine choice for him, I think. Did wonders for Robbie. Those two brothers grew up in the same house, mind you. One went one way – and Robbie went the other. It's not the kind of life you have, of course. But Lawrence is a different sort. And I think, if you asked your mum – and I wouldn't dare – nor would I advise it to others – that the 'prospects' your dad offered her weren't what she thought they would be."

She looked over Alan's shoulder out the window of the pub. "You're absolutely right. But he's my son. And I can't think of any harm coming to him. I can't."

"Harm comes to all of us, love. In ways we never expected. You of all people, well, you know that."

She smiled back weakly, nodded. Friendly silence fell again. Alan finished his beer and looked around. "Now if our Celia isn't here shortly, I'm going to have to order another pint."

"I've got to be off myself, in a moment." She looked at her watch. "I'm meeting Eleanor for dinner just down the way, and I'd not like to be late."

He smiled. "I reckon you wouldn't. You've been taking a glance at that watch every five minutes."

Caroline felt abashed. She hated to be transparent. "Have I?"

He nodded, still smiling. "It's _all right_ , Caroline. To be happy about something. You and your mum," he shook his head. "You're two peas, you are."

She smiled and finished her beer. They chatted on about the weather, and she finally gathered up her coat. She stood and winterized herself. March had decided it would not go out like a lamb this year, and a freezing rain was preventing hope of spring even into early April.

She bent over to kiss Alan on the cheek. "Text me when Mum turns up, will you?"

"I will. Enjoy dinner and say hi to Eleanor for us."

Her eyes crinkled. "I will."

* * *

Caroline bustled into the restaurant just a few minutes late. Everything on her way over had taken longer than it should. Her frustration evaporated when she spotted Eleanor at a far table, one they'd sat at frequently. They'd tussled over whether to meet at Eleanor's old favorite, Farro, for Italian, or Caroline's newest, Phoenician. Finally, the thought of Eleanor thoroughly enjoying her tiramisu won Caroline over.

She was unusually absorbed in her mobile. Caroline hung her coat at the rack and took the opportunity for a bit of fun and snuck up from behind. She put her hands on Eleanor's shoulders and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.

"Excuse me?" Eleanor looked up abruptly and a severe look covered her face, before she recognized Caroline and smiled broadly.

It wasn't like Eleanor to be jumpy, and Caroline was confused for a moment before Eleanor stood in greeting and wrapped her in a tight, hard hug. She'd not seen her since she'd been with the girls during the week while Eleanor was in London. Caroline had felt the entire six days in between and she warmed in Eleanor's firm embrace. She took in the smell of her clothes with the faintest trace of perfume, and her dark hair and warm skin with the faintest trace of lavender. She smiled, comforted, completely unaware of how she'd felt just a tiny bit alone all week, until this very moment.

Eleanor pulled back, and, completely shocking Caroline, took her head in her hands and kissed her deeply. She became hyper aware of their surroundings, and simultaneously the demanding intimacy. Her mind won out and she broke the kiss and gazed curiously, smiling in surprise. "Hello, then."

Eleanor's return gaze was consuming. "Hello Caroline. I've missed you."

"Well I gathered that." Caroline still smiled as they sat down.

"It's my right." Eleanor's haughty air caught her off-guard again.

She countered with her own cheek. "Is it?" She smiled playfully. On occasion the Eleanor full of bravado still surfaced for a round of lively banter.

The response was less playful. Stern, in fact. "I hope so. I hope a year together would be long enough to claim some right to miss you after a week apart."

Original happiness at just seeing the other woman lingering, Caroline looked for a way to stabilize the situation. Clearly they weren't playing. She shifted gears and there was more concern than anger in her expression. "Of course. I just don't think I was prepared for your enthusiasm. Not that it wasn't welcome." She smiled in a way that insisted Eleanor return it.

She did, put on a bright one and reached across to take Caroline's hand. "I'm sorry. Let's restart."

Caroline nodded, still confused but willing to give up the benefit of the doubt. Clearly there had been more going on in Eleanor's head than choosing between salad or pasta for dinner when she'd arrived. She smiled back, searching Eleanor's face for answers. All she saw was a ghost of uncertainty, if that. She dismissed it as a remnant of the awkward start.

"How was Alan?" Eleanor sat back. "They don't come much more charming than that man."

"Lovely as ever. He's really something." She couldn't agree more about that, at least.

"Did your mum join you?"

"She was due to but I suppose she was running late." With that thought she raised an index finger, fished her mobile from her cardigan and glanced down. _'Celia says hullo.'_ She clicked it off and returned it to her pocket.

"Just a text from Alan I'd been expecting."

"Everything fine?"

"Yep."

"Good. Because I'm ready for no less than your full attentions." Eleanor winked, and again Caroline was curious at her brazen front. It reminded her of their first few dates. In retrospect it was clear that it had been a show of power, an attempt to put her where Eleanor wanted her to be. To keep Eleanor safe. Over time it had lost its edge and evolved into a warm banter, challenging and enticing. The words were familiar, but her tone tonight was a throw-back. The edge had returned and Caroline had no clue why.

Eleanor pushed forward through Caroline's assessing silence. "How were the girls? They gave a glowing report – but you never know, when it comes to teenagers, how accurate that might be."

"Well they were 100% accurate on this account. We had a lovely time together. Truly, Eleanor, we did. Thank you for letting me stay with them."

"I'm glad to hear it. I assumed you would all get on just fine." She smiled and raised an expectant eyebrow at the passing waiter. He caught it and paused.

"Good evening ladies. Welcome back." He gave them a friendly nod to each of them. "Can I start you with something?"

"Yes. The house Cab, please. A bottle." Eleanor smiled up, missing Caroline's amused expression.

"Very good. I'll be back in a moment. Bread?"

"No thank you."

"Very good." He nodded, grabbed the wine list from Eleanor and continued on.

"I suppose Cabernet sounds great, and I suppose no need for bread..." Caroline's tone began to take on its own edge.

"I'm sorry. I presumed." The look in response was contrite, but not completely.

"It's fine. Fantastic pairing with what I'm going to order, actually, because I'm famished and there's not stopping me tonight. Stuffed manicotti and calories be damned." The food at Farro was worth the splurge.

Eleanor grinned wickedly. "I have every intention of working off every single calorie with you later. In fact, I almost cancelled dinner altogether."

Despite the practiced routine, clearly there was something bothering her, and clearly she had no intention of addressing it. She went along, knew it was beyond Eleanor to bury an issue for long. "Well we've got my house to ourselves until nine am. Greg and Jenny are over at hers tonight playing house with Flora. They're at Jenny's quite often – I think they're quite happy."

"I remember you mentioning that. I'm happy for them. But how is it for you?"

She sat back in her seat and fidgeted with her napkin. "It's hard. I mean, it's fine. It's good. But they're very much the nuclear family, you know. When I see them with Flora, it feels…." She tapered off and gazed over Eleanor's head at the back of the restaurant and the bustling open kitchen. She knew how it felt, but she couldn't say it out loud. It felt as though they were giving Flora something she never could. A traditional life. The _right_ life.

"Caroline. Come back." Eleanor looked at her kindly, her shoulders finally softening. "The life you've created for Flora – with _all_ of you in it – is the best possible life. Believe me. I've spent my fair share of restless nights wondering whether I was doing right by the girls. Pushing off the expectations of society. They're endless. They're crushing. And they're rubbish."

Even by now Caroline knew she could read her thoughts as though they were printed on her forehead. "Yes. You're right of course. Hard to keep it top of mind sometimes, though, isn't it?" She shook her head, blonde hair swinging, as though shaking off her thoughts, and smiled over gratefully. Eleanor seemed more sorted, and so she walked out on a limb.

"Speaking of moving in, June and Lily seem to have us all figured out." She studied closely every nuance of Eleanor's response.

Eleanor's face became neutral, and she didn't twitch, didn't speak. Caroline imagined she heard the snap of a twig under her feet.

The waiter appeared with the bottle of wine, held it toward Eleanor for her review. She nodded, and he commenced opening it, deepening the awkward silence between the two women. He intentionally ignored it and poured a splash into Eleanor's glass, which she swirled, sipped and approved. He poured two glasses and set the bottle on the table. "Enjoy, ladies."

They both picked up their glasses reflexively and clinked, meeting uncertain eyes on either side. "Cheers."

They drank and Eleanor appeared to find herself, while Caroline was now completely on guard.

"So exactly what have my two schemers gotten up to now?"

"Yes. Well. They tag-teamed me at dinner on Wednesday evening, about us moving in. At some point."

Eleanor didn't say anything. She stared at Caroline until it became painful. Then she sighed and threw her napkin on the table. "I'm sorry Caroline. I'm really off my game tonight. I'm making a mess of dinner, I know it. You've brought something up - well, you've raised an issue that's going to be hard for both of us, isn't it? And I haven't responded properly."

Caroline heard Eleanor's apology and tried to let it sink in, remained quiet but met Eleanor's warm brown eyes, which were tentative but looking back to hers for validation she couldn't help but offer.

"We've been ignoring it together, haven't we? What's supposed to come next between us?" Caroline fidgeted with the base of her glass.

"We have. What do you want to do about that?"

"I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about it." Caroline immediately backed off what seemed to be a harsher statement than she wanted to give. "I am - I mean, I will - be ready. Soon. I want to, Eleanor - find a way to make our lives - to bring them closer together. I don't want to go a week without seeing you, missing you all the time. And I don't want to keep comparing calendars like we're sorting business meetings, just to be together. I want this all to get easier. To feel easy the way I do when we're together." She finished her monologue and reached across the table to cover Eleanor's hand. "I love you. And I want to say that to you every morning"

Eleanor reached over with her other hand to cover Caroline's with her own. "I love you too. I do." She sat back and once again sighed more deeply than Caroline could account for. "But you don't see how it's going to work yet." Eleanor's eyes fixed on a distant point outside the window to the street and she nodded. "And neither do I."

Caroline nodded back. They sat quietly and looked at each other for a very long moment, eye contact slowly becoming animated with silent conversation. As they lingered she felt herself shifting, the tension of the evening evolving to take a new shape and intensifying. She felt self-conscious at her own emotions, and having them in such a public place, and looked down. She looked back up, found Eleanor still staring at her. She started to challenge with the intensity of her own gaze, both women testing to see what the other would do, where she would go.

Across the room their waiter started over to the table and turned back half-way.

Eleanor broke first under the open evaluation. She leaned down, picked up her purse and took out her wallet. She laid an appropriate number of pounds on the table for the wine and stood, while Caroline looked up at her in amusement. "Dinner's over."

She took the hand that Eleanor offered and stood, similarly committed to leaving as fast as they could when she felt the warmth of Eleanor's touch. Eleanor waived to the waiter and they walked hand in hand to the door, where Caroline collected her coat and they rushed out toward the Land Rover.

They separated and piled into the small SUV. Eleanor leaned over to Caroline immediately as she turned to grab her seatbelt. Practically falling over the center console she caught Caroline by her sweater and pulled her forward to kiss her. It was insistent and Caroline let go of her reservations and yielded to it.

Eleanor was almost on her lap now on the passenger side, and Caroline laughed in spite of herself and in spite of how she felt about Eleanor's deliberate and skillful wandering hands.

"Okay. Okay. Okay. As fun as it is to pretend we're two randy teenagers, perhaps we should take this someplace more appropriate?" She chuckled again and Eleanor pouted.

"Afraid we'll get a tap on the window? Find a spot of trouble?"

"Absolutely not. As much as I'd love to be in trouble with you, I'd just rather be somewhere more – conducive to my intentions." She smirked at Eleanor, still only inches away.

"Fantastic." Eleanor turned forward and started the car, pulled into the street.

They were quiet on the ride home, with none of the tension dissipating and Caroline's hand possessively on the feisty woman's knee. But her eyes drifted around through the windows, distracted by the lights of town as they passed and very aware of each individual moment. Caroline chose to table any discussion of why the night had been on such a roller coaster run. It was clear to her by now that physical connection was cathartic to Eleanor. Sometimes it were as if she could actually feel Eleanor's emotions shifting and evolving as they made love, see a new clarity in her eyes at the end of it. Often leading to a confession or difficult question in the hours following.

They crashed together through Caroline's front door and into the entry. Caroline recognized the sharp edge to Eleanor's passion. It felt to her as her own had so many months ago, the first few times they'd been together. Tinged with desperation for connection. She wondered what was driving it. She couldn't wonder long though, as Eleanor had somehow almost completely stripped her own clothes while Caroline had been distracted by her thoughts. _'Let's not forget to tidy before Greg turns up tomorrow,'_ was perhaps Caroline's last fully coherent thought as Eleanor moved back against her.

She wove her hands through Eleanor's to stop their travels and pushed her back. She turned and led her upstairs. "Come on. I'm not wasting whatever's going on with you tonight on the floor of this hallway."


	17. Chapter 17

Caroline opened her eyes to find Eleanor already awake. A rare thing for the woman who redefined the term beauty sleep. It was still dark-ish. She looked over to the clock with a mindful eye to get downstairs soon.

Eleanor had been a wrecking ball last night. Caroline playfully wondered if she'd need to straighten the pictures in her bedroom this morning. She'd been demanding in a way she hadn't been before, in a way that again reminded Caroline of how _she'd_ been their first few months together. She hadn't minded the intensity, but it was different. And she _still_ didn't know why.

"Hi. You're up." She smiled and moved over closer, brushed aside Eleanor's hair and insinuated herself under her arm. "Then this is my first opportunity today to tell you I love you. And I'm glad every time I wake up with you." She wasn't going to give any excuses for returning to the stop and start discomfort of the evening previous.

Eleanor grinned and raised an eyebrow. "I am awake. And I've been thinking about tea and scones." She kissed the top of Caroline's head. "And I love you too."

"Is our contract still in full effect, then?" She laid a finger on Eleanor's shoulder. "Any chance for renegotiation on a bitterly cold and damp April morning?" She looked over with the widest, sweetest gaze her blue eyes could cast and made a pitiful face.

Eleanor laughed and pulled Caroline up and over her and snuggled in under her. "How in the world could any woman deny you after that adorable plea?" She wrapped her arms around Caroline and kissed her, then shoved her over with her hips and snuck out of bed. She wrapped herself in her robe, hung on its usual peg on the back of the doorway.

Only in the last couple months had Caroline become _truly_ comfortable lingering in bed with Eleanor when they were both naked. It wasn't that she felt totally self-conscious. They weren't really all that different in body type. While her awareness of her own body hadn't prevented her from being swept away in the moments she shared with Eleanor, early on she'd often hurried them under the covers or to dim the lights. Being comfortable with herself was an intimacy that Caroline had never really, truly felt with John, and one she was starting to appreciate now.

The pace of that process had not, however, in any way affected the appreciation she'd had for Eleanor's body from day one. Caroline grinned as Eleanor closed the door. She closed her eyes again, smiling at tea and scones and the woman who could leave crumbs in her bed any day.

* * *

Eleanor put the kettle on and grabbed two mugs from the dishwasher. Darjeeling for herself and a malty Irish Breakfast for Caroline. _'I couldn't break her black tea habit, but she's finally warming to loose leaf. I suppose there are plenty of antioxidants in wine.'_

She pulled her robe tighter and crossed her arms. Day was beginning in Caroline's house, which was south western facing and slow to light in the morning. She'd chosen the dim over the kitchen lights and watched the shadows recede in the living room as she waited for the water to boil. The tile warmed under her feet. When the kettle whistled she leaned over and turned off the gas, but did not move to pour the tea.

Frustration and anger simmered in her mind. For years she'd dreamed of moving to London, taking over Anadyne and solidifying her career as the girls went off to University. Spending another ten years or so working at the top her game and finally retiring early, consulting on the side if she needed or wanted to, and splitting her time between June and Lily – perhaps even splitting time between grandchildren. _'My money's on June, in that sweepstakes…'_

It had been a neat little plan, one she'd looked forward to implementing very much. She'd never expected Caroline to become a part of her life, at least in a way that might disrupt what she'd so carefully laid in place. Daydreams about the headmistress had been just that. She never expected things to go this far. She never expected – or even wanted - another woman to become a part of her the way Caroline had.

But then Caroline had strutted into her life. Devastatingly real, demanding, and undeniable. At the immediate outset she'd thought the relationship might consist of a fantastic few months of sex. _'Well I got one thing right. The shagging is phenomenal,'_ and then dissolve with as much passion as it had begun. A delightfully consuming distraction on her carefully paved road to contentment.

But that hadn't happened. ' _We plan. God laughs.'_ Eleanor had been swept away in Caroline and realized very quickly that anything casual and fleeting would damage both of them equally. Ken's offer had arrived earlier than she'd expected, but she'd been intentionally ignorant not to see it coming. She'd rushed instead headlong on a direct collision course with any life that included Caroline in a meaningful way. And Eleanor knew now that a life that didn't include her gorgeous blonde ball of fire and fury was one she didn't want. _'And so here we are. I wonder if Solomon keeps weekend hours down at the Harrogate courthouse?'_

A glint of grey light finally reached the countertop and alerted Eleanor to the fact that she'd been lingering. She turned the water back on. It boiled momentarily and she plated a scone in the time it took, poured their tea and headed upstairs. She chuckled. _'Better grab the discard pile before Greg arrives,'_ noting her heels, trousers and sweater on the floor of the entry.

She just needed more time, she thought, as she padded up the stairs. Just a little more time.

* * *

"Caroline. Do you – have a moment – before I go?"

"Of course Greg." She looked up from her spot with Flora on the floor. Greg was holding his coat. His tone and his body language indicated he'd rather be leaving than staying to chat. She kept her suspicions off her face.

"Ah, okay, good. Ummm." He came back through to the living room and slung his coat over the back of the couch. He sat down with Caroline and Flora at his feet, turning his body to face her, elbows on his knees. Jenny had insisted he start keeping his hair in some sort of order, and he really was beginning to look the part of a dad.

She placed a couple blocks suggestively in Flora's hands and scooted around to face him better. "What's up?"

"Well, I think you know – Jenny and I – well, we're – ummm, getting serious. We've been getting serious. I like her very much, and for some reason she likes me as well."

"I can think of several reasons Jenny likes you Greg. She and I probably have many in common." She ran a hand over Flora's head, lingered with her hand on her small shoulder. Greg had decked her out in a striped polo and skinny jeggings. He had a habit of dressing her like 'daddy,' and it was adorable.

"OK. Sure. Thank you, umm, Caroline." He nodded and ducked his head self-consciously. "So, first I want to thank you. For allowing me into Flora's life in an authentic way, you know, allowing me to be her dad. I mean, I don't think I ever thought about being someone's dad. It's awfully cool."

Caroline smiled up at him. "It is, isn't it?" She had a strong idea where Greg was headed and she was a swirl of emotions inside. Eleanor was right. Greg wasn't just a good guy - he was a good _dad_. Not only did Flora deserve to have him in her life, _he_ truly deserved to have her in his. She'd had her misgivings. Inviting Greg in had been borne more of necessity than desire. Yet she'd never been happier or more confident about the outcome of a decision.

But she still considered Flora _hers_. Hers and Kate's. She supposed that wasn't true anymore. She'd created an opportunity for Greg to spend more waking hours with Flora than she did the majority of the time. And the most obvious thing in the world was how he loved her with every stitch of his being. She'd expected this conversation someday, particularly once Jenny entered the picture.

She and Greg had both been silently staring at Flora. He looked back up at her.

"So Jenny and I, we're talking about moving in. We're more than talking about it. We'd like to give it a go. We've started looking, hoping we can find something to start June."

"Oh. That soon?" She couldn't help her surprise but quickly recovered herself. "That's wonderful. She's a great girl."

He gave a goofy grin and nodded. "Oh yes. Yeah. Definitely. So I wanted to talk to you, before we went too far with anything." He paused awkwardly. "Well we've never formalized anything about Flora. And I'm not asking to. But I suppose I thought we could kind of come to a 'gentlemen's agreement,' I suppose you might say, about it, as Jenny and I move along?"

Caroline nodded and could not help but tearing up.

Greg was immediately alarmed. "Oh I haven't meant to upset you. It's just that I trust you, and there's no reason we shouldn't talk about these things. It's how to keep everything on the level, and that's what – we – need to do for Flora. So here's the thing - I don't want to move on to another part of my life, Caroline, is what I'm trying to say. I'm committed to Flora and this family. We're kind of a family."

She nodded and smiled through watery eyes. "We are Greg. It's not what I expected, that's for sure." They both laughed, both still anxious. "But we are. You're a wonderful father to Flora. And it's okay to talk about that." A brusque nod was what she could manage. "Hard. But good."

"Well good. I mean, you've been willing to talk, and I appreciate that. It's a big step for me and Jenny. And I won't pretend things won't change. We're looking, you know, sort of thinking about ourselves as a 'unit,' a little starter family, and Flora is an important part of that."

A vision of Greg, Jenny and Flora together came to Caroline, and she felt angry, jealous, and afraid. She was sure it crossed her face and she quickly looked away. She tried to remember how Eleanor's assurances had mellowed those feelings.

Greg caught her shift in mood. "Flora is yours, Caroline. I know that. I know how all of this started. But, she's – mine – as well, now. And I do mean to make a long-term go of it with Jenny. And I know we can work it out, all of us here in Harrogate. I mean to stay here. I can – work - it's not too much to get to York a couple times per month."

Still tears in her eyes, she pulled Flora closer to her and did not immediately respond. When she did she couldn't bear to look at Greg. "We can make it work, for Flora. That's what's important. And it's what's best for her." Her tone was almost indecipherable to her. It contained the anger and jealousy and fear she felt. But it also contained gratitude. "And I'm happy for you and Jenny." Her dinner with Eleanor the night before flew through her mind. The conversation about this very subject that had been shockingly difficult considering how she knew they both felt about each other. ' _But she seemed better this morning. I'm sure everything's fine.'_

"Thanks Caroline." He stood. "We don't have to labor it. There's plenty of time to keep talking. But I wanted to be up front with you. You've been that way with me, and I think it's been a great way to operate."

She stood to see him out. She clasped her hands at her waist and looked down. "We've done well." She shook herself mentally and her head as well, clearing it of lingering shadows. She stepped forward and hugged him. "Flora and I are lucky, Greg. Thank you."

He seemed taken off guard but returned the hug. "Thank you." He stood back, gangly and awkward as ever. "Okay then, I'll be going. See you tomorrow, standard time." He spun jauntily on his heel, initially forgetting and then quickly turning back to grab his coat. Caroline smiled at him and waved as he left.

She looked down at Flora. "I hate change, my girl. I do. Promise me that you'll never change, okay?" She sat back down on the couch. Flora looked up and smiled. "Cheese 'wich?"

Caroline flopped back and stared at the ceiling, nodding. "Change. Cheese. I suppose that's close. So good job." She sat back up, took Flora's hand and smiled. New foods were a total no-no at this point and she was in no mood for a war of wills. "Yep. Cheese sandwich for dinner. One for each of us. Coming right up."


	18. Chapter 18

"Vivian. Hi. Yes. It's Eleanor." She sat in her car in front of Anadyne, eyes on the main entry and talking to the steering wheel.

"I've been well. Very well. But I'm afraid I'm in need of a little tune up."

"Yep. Gears are thoroughly jammed."

"Yes. That's fine. Wednesday noon works. Thank you for making time to see me."

"Yes. Thank you. Bye." Eleanor opened the door to her SUV and sighed. She considered that if she'd not been a lesbian she'd probably not spend nearly as much time and money in analysis talking about women.

* * *

"I've done terribly well on my own, Vivian. For ten years now. And I made that choice. It was the right choice. It gave me time to become someone I'm quite proud of. I committed to myself, over love or relationships. And that's worked." Eleanor had been working with Vivian, older, wiser, and certainly more patient than she had a right to be, for the entire decade she'd been in Harrogate. Untying the knots out after Emma. She spoke singularly in declarations of fact and questions. Never gave directives, never gave advice. She waited patiently for Eleanor to fill in the substance and write her own prescription. It must have drove her to distraction.

"You did. You have. You should be. And June and Lily are wonderful," the other woman replied.

"June and Lily – I know I've not been truly on my own. And they'll both be off to University by next year."

"Yes."

"And then I'll have time to focus on my career, on Anadyne, exclusively."

"Yes."

Eleanor sighed and her wheels turned. "Anadyne is a well-positioned but comparatively small firm. Ken built it. He spent the prime of his career building it. I spent the start of mine operating what he built. I'm still at the bottom of the ladder, in many ways. I'm not yet fifty. Anadyne could be a _starting_ point for me."

Vivian nodded and remained silent.

"Caroline won't leave Harrogate."

"She's told you that?"

"No."

Vivian nodded, and again remained silent.

"I can't even ask her. It would be – disrespectful."

"Is it disrespectful if you don't ask?"

Eleanor did not have an immediate answer. She considered herself rather intelligent. And yet somehow Vivian always seemed to be two steps ahead. She ran several scenarios in her head as the tall, thin older woman across the way re-crossed her legs and waited. "I don't know." She glanced at the window. "I suppose. But it's not going to be a yes. She has a life here. A career of her own, one just as important to her as mine is to me. She's an aging mum, a family, shared custody of her daughter Flora. And if I make her be the one to be the one to say no, then I've shifted things onto Caroline – and she doesn't deserve that."

"Do you?"

"No."

Vivian nodded and resumed her silence.

"So then what will we do? Shuttle back and forth? I'll be in Harrogate a week at most, more like a few days, out of each month; if that. Is Caroline supposed to load a toddler on a plane once a month for a long weekend? A day or two here or there and perhaps a week at holidays? That's not the life I want for us."

"What kind of life do you want?"

"I want a life with Caroline in it – full time. And I want the professional success I've earned - that I deserve."

"There's your answer."

"That's not an answer. It's two contradictory statements."

"That depends on your perspective."

"You're frustrating." Eleanor smiled despite herself.

Vivian nodded and of course, remained silent.

"One of us will need to give up something we value, highly. Perhaps something irreplaceable. My career isn't going any further in Harrogate. And Caroline's family isn't going anywhere else." Eleanor shook her head and her eyes began to swell with tears. She was angry and hurt. Mostly frustrated. "After all these years. It's not fair."

Vivian leaned forward and offered her a tissue. "It's not. When would you need to move?"

"Next spring or summer. After Lily leaves for University, or starts a summer term. But I need to be down there more often already." Eleanor blew her nose. "Why does it have to be like this? Just when everything seemed so right? When all the work seemed to be paying off? When I finally wasn't lonely, at all, and I could see this shimmer of a future with someone who really mattered to me?"

"Are you saying you're going to end things with Caroline?"

"Absolutely not. It's the last thing I want."

"So she's said she wants to end things with you?"

"She's said nothing. I haven't told her yet, about this."

Vivian nodded and remained silent.

"I get it. I get it. I need to. But I don't want to. Because it's going to lead to a conversation that I don't want to have. It's going to make me say whether I'm going to London or staying here. Or make me ask her to compromise her life to be part of mine - the way I want her to be a part of it."

"Have you told her how you'd like her to be in your life?"

"She brought up moving in together. And if this all hadn't come up, I was more than ready to talk about it. I think about how it would be to go to bed with her every night, to wake up together every morning. Stop shuffling clothes and calendars and cars and schedules. To just _know_ she'd be there when I got home at night." _Blonde hair half-up and half down. Still dressed for the day on the couch with papers and her heels kicked off to the side, or changed and casual cooking dinner, perhaps on the floor playing with Flora. Looking up when I came through the door and smiling at me like it was the best part of her day._

"When would you move in together, if you did?"

"I have no idea. I'm not willing to uproot Lily or June right now. And Caroline – that house is more valuable to her than anything."

"More valuable than you are?"

"I'm afraid to ask. I'm afraid of her answer."

"It seems that you have many fears when it comes to Caroline. And you haven't talked to her about any of them."

It was Eleanor's turn to remain silent for a while, to consider the spring sunshine and the tissue in her lap. "They're not all about Caroline, are they?"

Vivian leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "I'm going to repeat back to you things you've previously said to me, Eleanor. Emma broke your heart, almost before you even knew it. She never had intention of respecting you, or showing up for you. She played way too hard at a game in which you didn't even know the rules."

Vivian fixed her eyes on Eleanor's. She nodded slowly, acknowledging her own revelations. The woman continued. "Caroline hasn't done any of those things. They're similar in some of their affects, the two of them. But they're not the same woman. From what you've told me they're different in some very important ways."

"I'm afraid that if I'm honest about what I want, what I need, that Caroline will let me down." Eleanor looked up at the ceiling and exhaled.

Vivian waited for Eleanor to look at her before continuing. "What's your next step?"

Eleanor rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Talk with Caroline. I've tried to control her. Control the outcome."

"And how's that been working out for you?"

"Not well. It's time to let go and trust. It's what I should have been doing all along. But I hate that particular time, when it comes around. And the stakes seem so high right now."

Vivian nodded - and remained silent.


	19. Chapter 19

"Well I have some good news."

Eleanor smiled as she delivered the declarative statement, and Caroline didn't quite buy it. She had been smiling a lot this week in a way that made Caroline – uneasy. She'd meant to speak with her about it when they finally had a minute alone. But according to custom, it appeared that Eleanor had beaten her to the punch. Going along hadn't worked out poorly yet. She decided to respond in the spirit of impending good news. "Don't make me wait forever, Eleanor. Spill it!"

Eleanor's smile broadened, became more genuine. "Ken's asked me to succeed him as CEO at Anadyne."

Caroline's face lit, reflexive smile on her face. This was nothing but good news. She temporarily forget to wonder at the lack of joyful abandon in the other woman's demeanor. "Why darling – that's fantastic. That's amazing. Well it's not amazing, it's completely logical - because you're amazing. Congratulations!" She raised her wine glass in salute and Eleanor met it, glowing at Caroline's prideful appraisal.

But now Caroline's eyes narrowed imperceptibly as Eleanor finished her wine in a gulp and set the empty glass on the table. Her own was still half-full. She waited for Eleanor to continue, all the non-verbal cues clear that this was not the end of the story.

"It's an incredible opportunity. It's something that I've been working toward for many years." A dip of her head, and again a smile that wasn't convincing. Caroline's fledgling anxiety grew roots. As Eleanor took a deep breath and still did not continue, the roots spread and took hold. The lingering smile in her own eyes became thin.

Eleanor exhaled and looked Caroline right in the eyes. "If I accept, I'll be moving down to London next spring."

Her expression didn't change, but it froze in place, almost in tandem with her emotions. She watched Eleanor watching her, and she simply wasn't able to craft a response without a lengthy pause. "Right. That's where Ken's based. I remember that." She looked down, and of their own accord her hands began to fidget with the napkin in her lap.

"I know I've been – distant – lately, and that's the reason. I haven't wanted to say anything about London. I've been afraid to."

"Well I can see why." Caroline's eyes were cold for a moment and despite her best efforts she wasn't able to hold back her temper and a sharp tone. "I'm sorry. I think you've taken me by surprise."

"I didn't know how else to do this, to bring it up." Eleanor sighed again and reached over to the other side of the table, grabbed Caroline's wine glass and helped herself to a sip.

Caroline couldn't help but smile at her. She picked up the glass herself, drank, and nodded. She pushed her dinner plate away, no longer at all hungry. _'London. London. How will this work? How can this work? It's not that far. It's a drive. A quick flight. We can still be together. We won't grow apart. I won't lose her. We can still make this work. Does she want it to work? She hasn't said anything about….'_

She looked up, realized a bit of time had passed. She spoke for the sake of breaking the loaded silence that had fallen; she couldn't face things head on and so started at the edges. "London. Will you buy a place down there? Near the office?"

"Possibly. There's still the family's flat. Ken wants me down much more frequently already, in the interim, this year, until it's official. I'll stay at the flat when I go. Depending on how things fall out, I might make that my 'primary' home, I suppose. Even though it's based in London I'll be traveling quite a bit. To Germany and to the US. So buying a place, if it were just for myself, might not make sense."

' _It seems she's thought this through quite a bit.'_ Caroline nodded and was again stunned into silence. She'd pasted the most encouraging expression on her face she could, wore it like a mask in an attempt to hide all the expressions she really wanted to make. "So you'll be traveling. How often will you be back in Harrogate?" She ran another sortie, went deeper. She moved closer to the heart of the issue, hoping that at some point Eleanor would say what she wanted to hear. _'Well I want her to say something…. But I don't know what that is.'_

"Perhaps the better part of a week, once a month, when I can, as often as I can." Eleanor looked up and out to the garden, where early spring flowers were budding in the rapidly fading light. "More likely I would be here every six weeks or so. Our production is based here, at the plant outside Harrogate, of course. But all our distribution and finance is run out of the London office. I don't want to lie. I don't want to bait and switch you here, Caroline. I'll rarely be in Harrogate - at least rarely compared to full-time."

Caroline heard what Eleanor was saying, and the possible scenarios she'd already been creating in her head for how it might work between them began to fade and recede. _'It's already been hard. Finding a way together with two busy lives, kids. A way to build something meaningful. I suppose I thought we'd just have all the time in the world. We didn't need to rush. But that's never true, is it? There's never as much time as you thought there would be.'_ She studied Eleanor, whose eyes were distant and fixed at a point over Caroline's shoulder. _'There's never as much time as you thought there would be…'_ With that thought Caroline plunged onward.

"What does this mean for us, Eleanor? Going forward?"

"I don't know. I know what I want. I know what _I_ want for us, Caroline. But I don't know what _this_ means for us." Eleanor shook her pushed her chair back, stood, and Caroline looked up in surprise. "Let's have a walk."

Caroline looked pointedly at the dinner dishes. Eleanor smiled down at her indulgently and held out her hand. "There's always time for dishes, Caroline. There isn't always time for – other things." There was no hint at innuendo in her remark, just mingled hues of sorrow and hard-won wisdom.

Caroline gave another last dissatisfied look at the table, but took the offered hand and stood, knowing the other woman was right. She was, after all, a Caroline with a new appreciation for how ephemeral things that initially seemed permanent could be. She owed Kate that. But she couldn't help her final thought on the matter. _'God I hope Celia doesn't come through and see the mess.'_

Eleanor led her to the entry, and they bundled against the late April night air. They were silent. Eleanor handed Caroline a scarf and Caroline helped Eleanor on with her coat, each giving small, encouraging smiles here and there. More than anything they seemed to share an air of determination to be optimistic - but toward achieving a goal that remained undefined.

* * *

The crisp air and the cover of dark created the right change in venue. Caroline knew movement suited Eleanor, and it kept her from trapping herself in her own head. Hand in hand they crossed the now quiet street and picked up the sidewalk headed toward town. They still hadn't spoken, but the tense mood of gains and losses had shifted to one of more neutral exploration. The shape of the future was, after all, a talk long overdue. Caroline had not expected it to be framed this way. But she'd already been eager to tackle the subject. Caroline loved tackling problems and creating solutions.

"Well I suppose it wouldn't make a lot of sense, to try and move in together, before you go." Caroline was now a scientist; making statements of fact and letting the process reveal the answer.

"That was always going to be a tough nut to crack, wasn't it?" Eleanor smiled over congenially, acknowledging the shared understanding of that truth. "I suppose, yes; we've dodged that particular bullet."

Caroline met Eleanor's smile. Walking side by side, not having to look at Eleanor directly the whole time that she was thinking about what she might lose if they couldn't figure this out, was helping. But her fear and her pain weren't silent, either. _'This just isn't how I thought things would go. This isn't the conversation I thought we'd be having.'_

Caroline was working as hard at letting go of her expectations as she was at trying to reshape a new vision for their lives together. Couldn't seem to get to one through the interference of the other. She'd been so excited about the possible future with Eleanor. In the past couple months, for the first time since Kate had died, for the first time, she'd stopped just existing day to day. She had stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop. She'd started feeling the sun on her face and started to assume it would be there day after day, and she used that assumption to think about, even dream about, what had seemed an impossibility a year ago. The concept that she might still have a chance at a happily ever after.

In the hopes it would let her find new answers she let herself feel that pain of unwanted change. Accepted the loss of the picture she'd drawn for the two of them and had looked forward to living out in the easy fullness of time; the giddy stress of moving in and merging households; and co-parenting Flora, letting her bind them together, having a real partner she could rely on for the all the stupid little daily roadblocks life threw up. Easy dinners and giving in to takeaway on busy nights. Happy mornings one after the other, knowing she'd always be waking up in Eleanor's arms. Vacations planned in leisure. The gift and the indulgent luxury of time spent together completely taken for granted.

Eleanor let Caroline have her silence, and Caroline appreciated that. Their travel through the town at night helped make that less awkward, and she distracted herself noticing things she didn't normally during the day. _Trying_ to distract herself with appreciation of the shadows cast by the streetlights and the way they changed the façade of the buildings around them.

Finally, Eleanor spoke quietly. "I know what your answer is to this is, Caroline, and it's okay. I'll understand. But I need to ask the question. I need to ask, because I need you to know that if the answer were yes, it's what I would want. Very much."

Caroline reached out and took Eleanor's gloved hands in her own, looked down in anticipation of what she knew was coming, already formulating her answer. It was quiet and still; a car passed slowly a few streets over.

Eleanor waited for her to look back up again. "Would you – and Flora - move to London with me?"


	20. Chapter 20

Caroline looked to the dark night sky as Eleanor finished speaking.

Eleanor kept nodding, averting her eyes, moving between the stars above and the concrete. The streetlight was white, and it glowed off the crown of her blond hair, hanging down around her face. It cast a pool of shadow at their feet.

When Caroline finally met Eleanor's gaze, her eyes were a swirl of sadness, and fear. But there was an unmistakable touch of joy, too. A little spark in the dark blue, and it was what Eleanor desperately needed to see as Caroline finally responded.

"If I could say yes, Eleanor, I would. In an instant. In an absolute instant. I would say yes a thousand times over."

"But you can't." She snuffled quietly. It could have been the cold and damp in the evening, but it wasn't, and she knew Caroline knew that.

A car door opened and closed in the distance, and the engine started. The sound swelled and then died off into the night.

"Oh Eleanor." Caroline stepped forward and pulled her into hug. "You're everything I want. _Everything._ You are." Eleanor nodded again against Caroline's chest. "But everything I need, everyone I need, and who needs me – is in Harrogate. And I don't know how to leave that." She kissed the top of Eleanor's head, rested there, and she mumbled, "I'm sorry. I really am. You have no idea."

Eleanor stepped back and raised her watery eyes to meet Caroline's, which had also become bright with tears. "I understand." She nodded fiercely. "And I - I don't know how to say no to this opportunity."

"Right." Caroline took her hand again, and they walked on. "I wish you did. I wish you knew how to say no, and I knew how to say yes." She turned to Eleanor, who was studying her feet as they walked. "So now what?"

"Well I suppose just a day at a time, for now. I'll still be here, in Harrogate, mostly, until Lily graduates Sulgrave Heath and leaves for University." They'd addressed only one of the many questions that now loomed between them. Somehow the yet unanswered questions seemed even more complex.

"Ah. And is she still going to study music – piano - up in Edinburgh this August?"

"Yes. She's delighted. It's a wonderful intensive, and between it and her current qualifications, she'll be sure to get into the program she wants at University of Edinburgh next year. She's been set on it since – well since forever. We took a holiday in Scotland when she was ten, and I don't think all of Lily came back with us." Eleanor smiled in pride and happiness for her daughter, but her eyes were evasive and she tensed.

Caroline squeezed her hand.

Eleanor sighed. "Since Lily will be in Edinburgh - right now I'm scheduled to be in London most of this August."

* * *

Caroline's grasp held, but it was her turn to stiffen. Thinking of Eleanor gone for entire month of August, putting what felt like such an immediate, concrete date to her absence, brought a new level of emotional understanding home for her. "And I'll be in New York with Flora and Ginika for much of July. So..."

Now Eleanor squeezed Caroline's hand more tightly. Silence fell again, heavier, and they walked on, winding through the streets and unwilling to stop or turn back. Both absorbed in her own thoughts and paying attention to little else than everything about the woman next to her. Both feeling that once this night was over, the reality of change would be undeniable. The clock would begin to tick.

But the night moved on, and Caroline realized she was getting cold, despite their movement.

She stopped at a corner and looked up. "We've wandered quite far, haven't we?"

Eleanor looked around, sniffed. "It's your neighborhood. I've no idea where we are." They smiled at each other and forced a laugh for the sake of lightening the mood.

"Oh we've gone well past my neighborhood, ages ago." Of course she had some idea of where they were, but Caroline certainly didn't frequent all the remote residential nooks and crannies of Harrogate regularly. "Give me just a minute to think, then."

* * *

Eleanor smiled at Caroline. She stood back, shoved her hands in the pockets of he pea coat, waited and let her 'think.' _'Why tell her I've brought my phone, when it's so much more fun to watch her puzzle it out?'_ She almost laughed in spite of herself, and even in the small joy of the moment, she felt the hurt, like a pin prick to her heart. She decided to completely ignore it. Because Caroline was making an adorably intensive study of the street signs and the buildings, occasionally throwing in a glance at the waning moon for good measure. She'd not been paying any attention to Eleanor's observation of her, and smiled in surprise as Eleanor suddenly zoomed in, hands on both sides of her face and inches away. "I love you, Caroline Dawson. I do. With all my heart." She kissed her briefly, forcefully. "I don't know what comes next. But I do love you, if that's enough for now."

"Your love is enough for me, right now. Let's start there."

They tilted their heads together. Caroline took Eleanor's hand and led them up the street, hopefully toward home.


	21. Chapter 21

"So you've told her you're moving to London?" Jonathan raised his brow at Eleanor as they booth stood in the corner of Caroline's kitchen. Caroline had decided on casual brunch for her birthday, and extended the invitation to Eleanor's family - after some deliberation about George and Margaret. Caroline favored including them, and Eleanor hadn't wanted to deal with it. Caroline, her own slow reconciliation with Celia building momentum, had encouraged it, and Eleanor had finally agreed. The complete gathering made for a bursting home, and the recent turn of good weather had saved the day. Guests spilled out into a splendidly green garden under a bright blue sky.

One arm crossed over herself and one elbow up sipping her mimosa, Eleanor looked over and nodded at her brother. "I have told her."

"And?" He took a sip of his black coffee. His eyes were sharp and dark as their mother's, without the cast and shadow of judgement about them.

"And I asked her to move there with me. And she said no. That she wanted to, but no. And so we're just continuing on, for now, day by day. I suppose we're just going to wait and see what happens, try to make it work when the change finally arrives. 'Live into the answers,' you might say?"

"Mmmmmm. The old head in the sand approach." He winked at Eleanor and she leaned against him, smiling over across the room at June who had looked up from conversation with Alan and caught her eye.

"I wouldn't put it that way. I'd say we're going to live in the moment and let go of control over outcomes." Her words were thin but haughty, her expression superior as she looked over to him. "I don't think that's too far off the mark from your one day at a time approach?"

"Oh and where did you ever read that drivel? You're impossibly new age. Did you chart your stars this morning as well?" Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Let go of control over outcomes. Keep mum around mum with that."

"Hmph. I did not chart the stars, silly boy. I chart the progress of the _moon_ , if you must know. A far more powerful celestial body, when it comes to women and our fates." Eleanor rolled her own eyes in response, turned from her smirking brother and smiled at his wife as she approached.

"Dear God. What _are_ you two talking about? I'm bored already." Bella grabbed the champagne bottle at Eleanor's side and refilled her glass.

"Jonathan is busy belittling me, and I'm trying to return the favor."

"Typical." Bella shrugged her shoulders and stood next to Eleanor, back to the counter and watching the mass of people in Caroline's home ebb and flow.

Bella offered her glass and a beaming smile to Eleanor in a toast. "Here's to you, CEO."

"Thank you." Eleanor smiled back and they clinked. Her eyes were steady and serious, not merry. She searched out Caroline, across the room and speaking to Gillian. Eleanor followed her small movements. The ever-changing tilt of her head as she spoke. A smile and then an animated frown. A hand at her hip and then up and her index finger pointed at Gillian. A glance down to Flora, standing between Lily and Greg, looking up at Jenny. Finally, a glance toward the kitchen, then to Eleanor, and a sweet smile as soon as their eyes met, which Eleanor returned with a wave, unmet. Caroline had already turned to chat with Greg.

* * *

"I'm sorry, but I am absolutely with mum when it comes to those comic books, Greg. _Ridiculous_." Caroline made a sweeping motion with her hand, her face serious and her tone as well. "Honestly. I won't have Flora even _looking_ at those women you draw."

Jenny piled on. "Oh you're singing to the choir, as far as I'm concerned, Caroline. I say if the women don't get pants, nobody gets pants. And _that's_ just for starters." The two exchanged looks of approval and stared up expectantly at Greg, clearly in over his head. Lily, nearby, had apparently overheard. She smiled at the exchange.

"Caroline, I suppose…" He paused, fumbled. "It's not meant to be serious. All the characters are out of proportion in body _and_ in personality. That's what they are. Characters. They're not meant to be 100% true to life. They're over-dramatized representations."

"But why the bloody hell do all the women have to be so impossibly shaped?" Caroline crossed her arms, and her gaze lost no intensity. "And why are there so _few_ of them?"

"Well, I mean, the men are quite ridiculous too. I mean, I _draw_ them and I don't look like any of them. So I don't see what's different."

Jenny sighed and the women exchanged glances again. She poked her boyfriend in the stomach. "You're thick, Greg. I love you, but you're thick." She shook her head. "It's patriarchy. Whenever you have to ask yourself, when it comes to men and women, 'what's different here?' that's the answer: patriarchy."

Caroline nodded sharply at Jenny. "You, Flora can see anytime she likes." She then handed her empty glass to Greg, and scooped up Flora, hiked her, with some effort, up on to her hip. Her back protested but she wasn't willing to stop holding her little girl, while she was _still_ her little girl. She and Jenny filed out on to the patio.

* * *

"Why hello, love." Celia bent and held her arms out to Flora, who had wiggled in excitement at seeing her gran on the sunny patio. Caroline set her down, a broad smile on her face as she watched her daughter toddle up to her grandmother for a hug.

"Hi Granna!" Flora had reached the stage of development that included the creation of adorable hybrid words. Celia was of course impossible to pronounce, and she had categorically refused to be called 'granny.' 'Makes me sound positively ancient,' was the argument, accompanied by a very sour face. 'Granna' had become the compromise.

Jenny wandered over to speak with Jane and Lawrence. Caroline smiled at Celia, split off, approached Margaret and George. She stepped up to George first, handsome as ever and decked out in tweed of course.

He wrapped her in a warm hug. "I haven't had a chance for a proper hello. It's always wonderful to see you, Caroline." He smiled and his voice rumbled pleasantly. "Thank you for having us."

"Yes - it is. Wonderful." Margaret beamed and came directly up to a now unsure Caroline, approximated the hug her husband had offered so easily.

The bones of her ribcage pressed into Caroline's chest. _'How does she instantly put me so impossibly off-balance?'_

Now I know we already have history, you and I, Caroline. And we should put it behind us." Caroline was reminded that Eleanor had acquired her forthright nature right from the source – as well as her ability to flow seamlessly between blunt honesty and bewitching charm.

Still, Caroline was no amateur. "I'm glad to hear you say that. I'd like that."

"Good. It's settled then." Margaret's eyes twinkled and she sipped her champagne. "First things first. Happy birthday, darling."

"Thank you. Forty-nine – rather auspicious." She inclined her head, skepticism about the number not hidden on her face. It was so close to the significant milestone that approached at an ever-increasing pace.

"Time has absolutely nothing on you. You wear your years very well." George's tone was smooth, as seductive as Eleanor's ever was, and as comforting.

"Indeed you do. You're a striking woman. And forty-nine is absolutely youthful. Trust me." Margaret waved a claw-like hand and looked in up to the blue spring sky, and then around her. "Your home is lovely. As is your garden. I quite like the very simple structure. I can't abide some English gardens. Cloistered and overflowing with roses at every turn."

Caroline accepted it as a compliment, but was again put off-guard by Margaret's expression. Was there a challenge in her dark brown eyes?

"Why thank you, Margaret. We love it here."

"Yes – your mother – Celia – she and Alan live here as well?" Margaret looked over to the carriage house and back at Caroline. "It speaks volumes about your character that you're committed to maintaining the integrity of your family."

Again a compliment, and again – a challenge? Caroline met it with openness. It never worked to back off a show of strength. Far better to meet it with one of your own, in whatever form.

"Well it's not always been easy, but we manage. And it's truly wonderful to have her close - and Alan. He's the best of us all, I think." Caroline smiled over to Celia, Jane, Jenny and Lawrence chatting. Celia was holding Flora's hand, who was absorbed in the big people talk.

"We can see why you like having her close. We've thoroughly enjoyed meeting Celia, haven't we, George?" Margaret smiled up and laid a hand on her husband's arm.

"Yes. And enjoyed seeing how alike you two are, Caroline. Sharp wit and sharp tongue." He crinkled his eyes.

Caroline narrowed her own in a mock frown. She stared George down and they laughed together.

Margaret smirked. "Speaking of keeping those we love close, what do you mean to do, now that Eleanor will be in London?"

* * *

"I couldn't be prouder of our Lawrence, Jane. I'll say that much." Celia gave the boy an approving look, and he actually shuffled his feet.

Jane smiled at both of them, how like each other, and like Caroline they were. The familial similarities that drove you crazy when you were on the inside and were amusing to no end from the outside.

"We're proud to have him as well. I think he'll excel, once he graduates and comes on full time. He's already doing quite well. When he can manage to speak properly and string two words together."

Lawrence was beet red now, impossibly shamed by having two women praise him simultaneously. He looked around for another lad to ease his discomfort and found only Flora, looking up at him. He was finding her less annoying these days, now that she'd stopped crying incessantly. And even better at the moment, a perfect distraction. Without responding to either woman he plucked Flora up, over his head, and flew her away from the conversation, through the rest of the mingled crowd on the patio and out to the blessedly abandoned driveway. Well trained by Eleanor, she stuck her arms forward and gave a howling giggle.

Caroline, temporarily unable to respond to Margaret's assault, caught sight of the pair and pretended not to notice, but smiled despite herself.

She turned back to Margaret. "We haven't sorted London. But we're both smart. I'm sure we'll figure something out."

George played his assigned peacemaker role. "I'm sure you will. And – I'm famished. Let's grab breakfast, darling. You know Eleanor and June have been cooking. Let's see what they've whipped up."

Margaret inclined her head to Caroline, another smile from twinkling, dark eyes. "Happy birthday, dear."

"Thank you, Margaret." Caroline watched the couple head inside.

Celia spotted her and wandered over. The two stood side by side looking into the house, arms crossed and mirrors in posture. "Well, love - they're quite a family, aren't they?"

Caroline looked down at Celia. "Margaret makes me quite glad you're my mum."

Celia looked up with her own wry grin. "Now _that's_ saying something, isn't it?"


	22. Chapter 22

"Happy birthday, darling." Eleanor handed Caroline a box from the pocket of her robe. Then she let the robe slip to the floor.

"Now you know that's not fair. And I'm exhausted, Eleanor." Caroline smiled apologetically, but held up the gift in excitement. "What's this?"

"You'll have to open it to find out. You'll get no secrets out of me." Eleanor pouted internally, had hoped for a different reaction from Caroline. She'd purchased new lingerie for the birthday, and disinterest had not been the response she'd been looking for. She redoubled her efforts.

Caroline pulled at the ribbon on the box, but Eleanor plucked it from her hands. She leaned directly across her where she sat on the bed, and placed the box on the side table. "I do promise you this - what's in that box isn't nearly as exciting as what's standing in front of you."

Caroline laughed. She placed her hands on Eleanor's hips, pulled her closer, and covered her bare midriff in playful kisses. "I've no doubt of that. But truly - after weathering both our families today, I'm done in. And I've a headache that is not pleasant."

Eleanor did not keep her pout to herself this time. "Have you really just said that to me? That you have a _headache_?" Her brow arched, not seductively. She placed her hands on her hips. She felt the beginnings of frustration, but was not ready to yield to it. She'd been looking forward to time with Caroline. They'd only spoken on the phone since the night last week that Eleanor had revealed her plans for London, and that connection hadn't been nearly enough for her. She needed reassurance. She needed to see, and most of all to _feel,_ Caroline.

Caroline smiled up, her own frustration making an appearance at the back of her mind. She truly was exhausted. Her back hurt a bit, and she did have the beginnings of a small headache. Most of all, though, she'd only spoken to Eleanor on the phone since they'd talked about London. Today they'd been surrounded at every turn - barely had time at all to talk and reestablish their rapport. Caroline felt disconnected from Eleanor, and sex was the last thing on her mind.

"Can we just talk, for a moment?"

Eleanor hid her disappointment behind her support for Caroline. She turned and picked up her robe and put it back on. She sat on the bed and they clasped hands. "Of course. It's your birthday. You're in charge of it all, for better – or worse."

Caroline leaned in and kissed Eleanor's cheek. "Thank you." She moved to sit further back on the bed and grimaced.

"Is your back bothering you again?"

"A bit, yes."

Eleanor clucked.

"Fine. We can take up yoga together. I acquiesce." Caroline rolled her eyes.

Eleanor beamed. "Wonderful. You won't regret it. Hold on then." She crawled further onto the bed and sat cross legged-behind Caroline. She slid her t-shirt up from the bottom and started to knead at muscles that were clearly very unhappy. "Truly, darling. A little more yoga and a little less time in those heels will do you a world of good."

"I thought you liked me in 'those heels.'"

"I do. But I like you better with a strong, healthy – and _flexible_ – back."

"Mmmmm hmmmm." Caroline smiled patiently at Eleanor's endless innuendos and closed her eyes. "Was it alright today, having George and Margaret here?"

"With the rest of your family around as a distraction? Fine. Dad's right as rain in any crowd, and mum can't stand to be seen publicly as anything but the pinnacle of propriety. So in all – Caroline – I think it was the right call to invite them." Eleanor leaned in and kissed her cheek in acknowledgment of Caroline's superior judgement. "Thank you."

Caroline smiled. "Good."

Eleanor let Caroline's lower back rest for a moment, and moved up to her neck and shoulders, likely the source of the headache.

"Ah." Caroline took in a quick, sharp breath.

Eleanor paused. "Too much?"

"No. Just a frisson. I think you've hit a spot."

"Good." She worked on. Caroline let her head drop and relaxed further.

"When is William home from University?"

"Next month. He leaves for Tel Aviv in July – not long after I return from America."

"It's wonderful – the Tel Aviv program. And I think you're wonderful for supporting him." Eleanor favored her with another approving kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you. But I still worry for him."

"Of course you do."

She moved her hands under Caroline's shirt again at her lower back, one more gentle round of knuckles for good measure. She trailed her fingers lightly down Caroline's back one more time, and let them rest on her folded hips. "Better?"

"Immensely." Caroline closed her eyes and leaned her weight back against Eleanor, who leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her. Head rested on Eleanor's shoulder, Caroline murmured softly, "I see you've been shopping at Rigby and Peller."

Eleanor smiled and kissed the top of Caroline's head. "I have. With one particular person in mind."

"I assume you mean me."

"Mmmmmmmm." Eleanor's chest rumbled, her deep voice resonant with disapproval at the implication. "The lingerie is always for you, Caroline. And for the look on your face. Never doubt that." She wrapped her arms tighter. "It's your very tangible approval that makes me confident enough to pull the look off, after all. It's the only thing that keeps me from running screaming from the dressing room mirror."

Muscles still tender, Caroline turned herself slowly to face Eleanor, who slid back and laid down under her, hands at her sides and brown eyes earnest. She propped herself on her palms, blonde hair falling down around them, blue eyes warm and serious. "You should have nothing but confidence, Eleanor. About your body. About anything. Particularly with this crimson trim." She slid a finger under the tight line of the charcoal bra. She leaned down and placed a lingering kiss on Eleanor's jaw before she pulled back up again. "Whether or not I'm the one looking at you. But I will say I'm damn lucky to be the one looking at you."

Eleanor smiled and felt the shift in Caroline. She immediately wanted to feel more of it.

Caroline smiled right back. _'It is my birthday, after all.'_ She sat up and stripped off her shirt. She leaned down again into Eleanor, warm skin on warm skin now, and kissed her without a hint of reserve. _'And this is the present I'd like to open first.'_


	23. Chapter 23

"All right. Clearly scones aren't going to be your forte." Eleanor placed her hand on her hip and smiled over to Caroline, as June and Lily watched from the other side of the counter, Flora standing on a stool between them.

She glanced aside at Eleanor ruefully. "For now."

"Now!" Flora chimed in.

"One of my favorite words, Flora, thank you." Eleanor smiled at her with approval. "So we'll leave scones behind, and focus on those tea cakes you drool over." She met Caroline's eyes with a mischievous smile, which Caroline ignored for the sake of the girls.

"The tea cakes are a snap. You've got this." June gave a confident, encouraging smile, more like her mother for each year Caroline had known her.

"Thank you, June. I'm glad there's at least one Strathclyde with any confidence in me."

Lily leaned over and offered a fist bump, which she returned. "You're all over this Caroline."

She turned back to Eleanor and crossed her arms. "Lead on, Mary."

Eleanor rolled her eyes. "You know that makes you Paul, hmmm?" She tied up her loose brown waves and carried on. "Prep chef one?"

June trotted into the kitchen and began assembling ingredients on the counter.

She turned to Caroline. "Prep chef two - measurements."

Caroline pulled over the recipe card, adjusted her readers, and began portioning them out. Eleanor fetched a large stainless steel bowl from the freezer, the beaters for the stand mixer nestled inside.

Caroline dumped the butter into the bowl, bumping her with her hip gently as she did so. She flipped on the mixer, speed as low as worked for the task, and began to cream the butter. She slowly shook in the powdered sugar until it was a smooth mixture, sprinkling in the salt at the end, and finally the vanilla.

She carefully ignored Eleanor, still standing directly next to her and peering over skeptically. She crooked her finger at June.

June offered Flora a high five, who was held rapt by the action at the stand mixer, and came over to Caroline with the bowl of sifted all-purpose flour.

Caroline bumped the speed on the blender up just a touch, and June began shaking flour in while Caroline scraped down the bowl with a spatula.

The moment the flour was incorporated she flipped off the mixer. She spread the dough up the sides of the bowl and popped it into the refrigerator.

She turned back to Eleanor. "Satisfactory?"

"Exceptionally. And just so you know, if you're out of room in the fridge, the dough will chill just as well in a snow bank."

Caroline frowned. "And you've come by this knowledge how?"

Lily groaned. "Preparing for Christmas Party 2014. A day that will live in infamy."

June popped her head back with an imperious look, and at that moment was Eleanor's twin. "It was NOT my fault."

"It was, and you might as well admit it." Lily rolled her eyes at her sister. "And I had to finish all the bloody baking."

Caroline's cleared her throat.

Eleanor turned abruptly on her heel from where she was at the pantry, eyes on fire and darker than Caroline had ever seen them.

She said nothing, and Lily shrank. "My bad. Very bad. I apologize mum, I do. I'm sorry."

"I know you are, Lily. What concerns me more is the casual use." She'd crossed her arms, and her tone was even and pleasant.

"Right. I think perhaps I've let that creep into my vocabulary… by mistake."

"It is a mistake. It's not a word to be used casually, Lily." Eleanor's posture had relaxed, and her eyes had lightened again to chocolate brown.

"I know mum. I'm sorry. I'll work on it." Lily blushed.

Flora, her eyes wide too, looked from Eleanor to Lily expectantly.

Eleanor walked over to the counter, opposite Lily. She leaned in on her elbows toward her daughter and her expression was calm and kind. "Thank you." She smiled at Lily, then at Flora and June.

Lily smiled back, shyly. "May I still be in charge of the 'Earl Grey' part of things?"

"I'd say we'd be making a grave mistake if we let anyone else do it."

Lily nodded. "Cool. With Caroline's help, of course."

Caroline had retreated to the corner of the kitchen, watching quietly. She was certainly no stranger to disciplining adolescents, and rested with her back to the counter watching the exchange with just a hint of amusement on her lips.

She smiled widely at Lily as she made her way around the island, stopping at the pantry to grab the loose leaf Earl Grey tea.

Lily set the tea next to the powdered sugar. She dug around in the cupboard at her feet and pulled out a coffee grinder, which seemed long disused. She flipped over to the sink and gave it a thorough scrubbing. "We only really use it for spices, but it's handy."

Caroline stood next to her at the island, observing intently, as was Flora, her brown eyes wide and fixed on the movement of Lily's long auburn hair.

"So, Caroline the mix for the rolling sugar is easy. Any will do, but if you're a fan of that Earl Grey where they add vanilla and call it 'creamy' that works. But first you run the tea through the grinder until it's as fine as possible."

She handed the grinder and the tea to Caroline, who did as instructed and mixed the tea and the sugar together to form an ash grey powder.

Lily turned to her directly, her green eyes wide and serious. "Now. The most important part. You have to add a pinch or two of salt. It's absolutely vital."

Caroline met the girl's serious gaze and nodded. "Salt. Got it."

"If you don't enjoy a tiny bit of savory in the cookie, and strong Earl Grey flavor, these aren't for you." June chimed in, and was serious as well now. Apparently baking was close to religion in the household.

"Oh these cookies are definitely for me. Anything your mother bakes, in fact, is for me."

Eleanor dried her hands on a kitchen towel and walked over to stand next to Flora, opposite the two chefs. Her eyes sparkled as she watched Caroline and Lily, heads bent in concentration.

"Alright. Now we wait for the dough to cool enough. It should be firm in your hand, and crumbly."

June popped over to the refrigerator to check. "Just about."

"Since it's out, would anyone like some tea?" Lily inquired.

Caroline and Eleanor raised their hands. Lily crossed the kitchen and set the kettle on, grabbed two mugs. Caroline dipped her finger in the sugar mixture.

Her face lit up. "It's quite good, isn't it?"

"It's divine." Eleanor took advantage of June's distraction with Flora and Lily's with the tea. She exaggerated her observation of Caroline's enjoyment, drew out the word and grinned.

Eleanor's hair was drawn back, outlining her face and bringing attention to her eyes, as usual lit with knowing mischief. Caroline matched Eleanor's posture, leaned on her elbows on to the counter until they were just inches away from each other. It was early May. Eleanor wore a thin tan linen shirt under her navy cardigan, and from this angle it was unbuttoned just enough to tempt Caroline to look where she shouldn't. _'If I were physically able to launch myself over the counter right now, I might do so.'_

Instead she laid a powdery finger on Eleanor's nose and turned back to Lily, pouring tea at the other counter.

Eleanor walked around the island, trailing her fingers along the countertop, meeting Caroline's eyes until Caroline shook her head and looked over to the living room where June had gone with a restless Flora to read a favored elephant book.

Eleanor pulled two cookie sheets out of the drawer under the oven, and rolls of silpat. She laid them in front of Caroline next to the sugar mixture and the dough. Lily watched for a moment, and apparently decided the rest could be left to the grown-ups.

Eleanor bumped her hip against Caroline, who looked over and met her grin. "All right. Cookies. Focus." She tilted her chin down at Eleanor in approximation of her over-the readers look.

"Headmistress Caroline is not helping me to focus."

"Who _are_ you, with that odd 'headmistress' thing?"

"Who am I? Your current girlfriend who is about to blow your mind."

"With your amazing cookie recipe."

"Right. What else would I mean?"

"Enough. The cookie dough will stop being chilled."

"Fine." Eleanor pulled the dough over in front of Caroline. She grabbed a walnut-sized lump and shaped it into a ball with her hand, gently, rolling the dough until it was warm enough to hold to itself but working quickly. She took the ball and rolled it in the sugar mix, set it on the silpat on the cookie sheet. "And there you have the secret. You roll the cookie in the sugar before _and_ after you bake it. The salt acts like a brine. It creates more moisture in the cookie, and at the same time the thinnest of crusts to hold the moisture in and make the cookie the tinniest bit crispier on the outside."

She placed her finger on Caroline's nose, leaving a powdery mark.

"Who knew?" Caroline smirked, put one hand on her hip and pointed to her nose with the other.

Eleanor grinned, leaned over and kissed it. Caroline stepped forward into her and they stared at each other for a moment.

Eleanor stepped back. "The dough won't stay chilled forever."

They turned back to the work and filled the cookie sheets. Eleanor put them in the oven and placed the remaining dough back in the refrigerator.

"How long do we wait after we take them out, to roll them in the sugar?"

"Depends. We've got soapstone countertops, so they stay reasonably cool. Basically, when you can handle them with your bare hands. Roll them a couple times, place them on cooling racks in between when you roll them. If the sugar melts into them completely, they're too warm."

"It sounds like you've done this a time or two." They stood side by side at the counter, watching the cookies bake in the oven.

"Successfully and unsuccessfully. We definitely discovered that it's wise to let the pans cool between batches."

"Mmmmmm." Caroline sipped her tea. She inched closer to Eleanor and listened to the girls puttering in the living room, and the occasional exclamation from Flora.

"I like this, Eleanor." She stared out the kitchen window, eyes fixed off in the distance, on the clouds speeding by, taking in the quiet Saturday morning. She crossed her arms and held her cup against her chest.

Eleanor snaked an arm under Caroline's and leaned her head on her shoulder. "I do to." She pulled her more tightly against her. "We'll find a way."

Caroline smiled. She leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "I suppose."


	24. Chapter 24

"I know that Jenny works splits on Tuesdays, Greg. Why don't you stay for dinner?" Caroline looked up from the couch, where she and Flora sat practicing animal names and colors.

Greg looked over from the study, where he'd been finishing up a project he hadn't wanted to abandon half-way done, and smiled. "Yeah. Okay. That would be great, thanks."

She nodded, then looked back to Flora. "Wait a minute. I forgot to ask every member of the household's permission." She touched Flora's nose, who swiped at her hand and smiled. "Flora, would it be alright if dad stays for dinner?"

The toddler looked over to Greg and gave a crinkled-eye smile and a grin that now included several teeth. "Yes! Daddy! Dinner!"

Caroline and Greg exchanged amused glances and a thumbs-up.

* * *

"Caroline, I want you to know that I've taken what you've said about the comics to heart. I really have." Greg nodded his head in earnest. "And I'm working on a new character. Inspired by Flora – and Kate - to a certain extent."

She looked up from twirling her pasta. "Okay." She set her fork down, sat back, napkinned her lips, and crossed her arms. "Tell me about her."

"Well she's a superhero –" Greg nodded again, "-of course. But she's a teenager. And her power is omniscience. Focused omniscience."

"A stretch already, if you've spent a day at Sulgrave Heath. Not that we don't have our bright spots."

He smiled and took a sip from his bottle of beer. "Well she's not public school. Working class and all, stable, but not posh. Had some scrapes here and there, because of her smarts. Anyway, she's a secret agent, as it were. Student by day and part of a crime-fighting syndicate at night."

"Mmmmmm. I still have my reservations, but go on." She leaned forward to pick up her wine glass, and quickly caught a sippy cup rolling its way to the edge of the table that Flora has just whacked with a swing of her fork. She gave her daughter a stern look, which was returned with a smile and a "Thank you."

She returned her attention to Greg, skepticism beginning to fade.

"So yeah. Like, she's really a student, and since her power is focused omniscience, she doesn't really ever go out in the field. She can just hold an object, or look at a photo of a person or a place, and concentrate on what she wants to know, and BAM." He made an exploding gesture with his hands. Flora started, eyes wide, and then giggled at him. He made the gesture and the sound again for effect, and she giggled again.

"Anyway. She's not like really in danger. She just lives this life, with her two mums, and goes to school and does science projects and has boyfriend issues. She's totally average, and she's way punk. Baggy clothes and colorful hair and all. So no, you know, 'ridiculous' costumes or anything."

Caroline favored him quietly with an amused expression. She sipped her wine, sat forward, and set it on the table, eyes on a visibly and audibly nervous Greg.

"Two mums?"

He shifted, fidgeted, but smiled. "Yeah. One black, one white. Black's the bio mum. Like I said, based on Flora."

Caroline's expression had lost its skepticism, was now one of proud approval. Happiness at how Greg had internalized what she'd said, thought about how it applied to Flora. How he'd been inspired by his little girl to change the way he saw the world, and what he brought into it.

"I think it's wonderful, Greg. Fantastic. And I can't wait to read it. And read it to Flora."

"Do you? Really?" His eyes lit, clearly pleased by her approval. "I've got some panels worked up already. I'll bring them by sometime."

She picked her fork back up, waved it at him. "I'd really like that." She smiled up at him again. "And thank you."

He nodded his head. They continued on. With Flora at the table there was never a silence, but the meal was companionable to say the least. Their rapport had definitely blossomed over the years.

They finished up and cleared, Greg primarily with the dishes while Caroline cleaned, and cleaned up after, Flora. She picked her up and stood her on a stool, watching Greg as he finished up.

She took Flora in both hands and wiggled her. "I don't know about you, Flora, but mum's completely done in by her day. How about ten minutes of music and one book before bed?"

"Yes please." Flora looked down and back at her mum.

"Good. Perhaps dad would be kind enough to lift you down, though?" Caroline rubbed at her back and looked over to Greg, who grimaced back.

"Tag team in for tired mum. Coming right up." He grabbed Flora, set her on the ground and they walked into the living room. He pulled several musical toys from their homes and let Flora choose. She went directly to the bongo set, which had been in heavy rotation of late. He met Caroline's disappointed gaze with another sympathetic one of his own. "She's really taken to them. Makes for a noisy afternoon during music hour."

"I can only imagine."

They endured a ten minutes of Flora's compositions. Caroline picked up the living room and gave the dishwasher another glance before deciding to start it, while Greg took Flora up to bed for story time.

Nearing the end of the school year and exhausted by the increase in activity that accompanied it, she flipped on the tele and put her feet up under her on the couch. She clicked quickly past anything news related and settled on an old re-run of Dr. Who. Though she didn't care for sci-fi in general, Kate had. She'd found it "imaginative." Caroline usually ignored it, but at some point had developed a conspiratorial affinity for a particular blonde Whovian villain, and kept tuning in hoping she'd return. Apparently, as Kate had explained to her, anything was made possible by the Tardis.

Greg came down a few moments later. "All is well."

"Good. I was in fear we might have a long night ahead of us. She seemed spunky today."

"Yeah. I think she might have worn herself out." He plopped down next to Caroline. "Never took you for one who'd watch Dr. Who."

"Kate liked it. I think I got used to it."

"Ah." Greg's mood shifted, and Caroline clicked off the tele, turned to him.

He laughed. "Jenny says I'm worse than an open book."

"She's right. What's up?"

He shifted himself around on the couch to face her better. Caroline turned to him as well, crossed both her legs underneath her, hands on her knees.

"Well – you and I spoke, a few months back. About Flora. And – our – arrangement?"

She grabbed a throw pillow and brought it to rest on her lap. She looked down and picked at the edges for a minute, and her eyes were challenging when she looked back up at Greg.

"Yes?"

"Well. With Eleanor – and London." He pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I know you're not planning on moving."

"That's right. I'm not. This is Flora's home." Caroline's jaw tilted upward, involuntarily.

"Right. Still. Now that Jenny and I have moved in, sort of established, well, we're more committed than ever to Flora continuing to be a part of our family." Greg nodded along with his delivery.

"You know I'm committed to that as well."

"I know that. That's great. It is. But things can – do – change, on occasion, and we don't predict them. And in the event that something changes, I'd want to know that Flora would still be with me. You know, that I would be able to take care of her." He danced around the subject, clearly no intention of directly confronting it. "I don't want to make a good situation a bad one. And I think, I mean, this – what – how - we've been doing things is good. I don't want to change that."

"What is it then, that you want, Greg?" Still no thaw in Caroline's stern demeanor. Why must she always be the one to say the hard thing?

He sighed. "I'd just like to have something written down. That says I've got some rights. That says I'm connected to Flora, in some way other than DNA."

She stood abruptly, pillow tumbling from her lap back on to the couch. She paced the room, thinking, hand on her hip, looking down, one hand at the top of her head. She finally stopped and turned to look at Greg, fire and fear in her eyes. "We agreed. We agreed that Flora was mine - and Kate's - baby. At the outset. You agreed too."

Greg sat back on the couch and faced her, body language relaxed and still non-confrontational. "I know. I know, Caroline. But that's my point, you see, that things change when we don't expect them. And things have changed now, from how they were, when we – arranged – them." He sat forward on his elbows and clasped his hands, and smiled. "I'm a full-time dad now."

She stood over him and stared down, both hands on her hips now and chin back up in the air, jaw tight. He was right. She knew it. She hated it.

"And exactly what do you want written down, Greg?"

He sighed again, ran his hand over his head and sat back. "I don't know."

She narrowed her eyes. "So you don't know what you want. But you want something – to change."

"No. Not to change. Just to formalize it, a bit."

She narrowed her eyes further. "You won't take Flora away from me. You can't."

He held his hands up, palms forward. "That's not what I'm trying to do. Not at all. I'd never, never do that. You two are – well, for lack of a better word, soulmates. I love Flora too much to ever do that."

She crossed her arms, but her expression softened. "So you want to bring a solicitor into this."

"Yes. I think, perhaps. But there's no reason this has to be adversarial. I'm trying not to be. I don't want anything to change between us, with how we're raising Flora. It's perfect as-is."

 _'How we're raising Flora.'_ The phrase raked up Caroline's spine. But it was accurate. And it had all been good for Flora. And that's what counted.

"Fine. I'll choose someone."

Greg stood. "Sounds fair." He clapped his hands at his sides.

They stood there for a moment, facing each other, and Caroline finally relaxed. "I suppose it's the right thing to do."

"I think so, yeah." He ducked his head and smiled again, made for the entry way.

Caroline followed him. "See you in the morning?"

He put on his jacket and turned at the doorstep. The light was already lasting longer, and the sun had set only just a while ago. It was still only dim, and the last glow of the evening outlined his frame in the doorway. "Of course. Bright and early for dad duty." He gave a little salute, turned and walked to his car.

Caroline watched him go, waved at him as he drove off before closing the door. "Right."


	25. Chapter 25

The late June day was exactly what Caroline – and Beverley – had hoped for. Had been hoping for, for at least ten years in a row now, to host commencement exercises at Sulgrave Heath. Sunny, just pleasantly warm, and only a few high passing clouds occasionally blocking the sun and granting those in the full academic costume a brief respite. The robes, and those ridiculous hats, were a blessing in the winter and a curse in the early summer sun.

The music commenced. The crowd rose. Caroline led the procession up the center aisle between the folding chairs on the great lawn, toward the dais. She took her place at the podium, the faculty and governors joining her on the stage and the graduating class filing in to their respective rows below them.

She smiled down. The music concluded. "Please be seated."

* * *

"Well no wonder she's so fond of herself. She ought to be. Look at her up there. Presiding." Celia gave a small shake of her head. She couldn't help but be proud of Caroline, but it still wasn't in her to hand out unmitigated praise.

"Well I think she looks absolutely stately." Alan nodded up at his daughter-in law.

"I'm with you, Celia. Hard to mingle with the mere mortals after looking down at us all afternoon." Gillian smiled with good humor. She and Caroline had made peace about Alan and Celia. It didn't mean Caroline didn't need an attitude adjustment, on occasion.

"Now you hush." Alan gave a stern look to Gillian, who rolled her eyes but made a zipping motion across her lips.

* * *

"And, as always, we have representation from this class at England's finest Universities, in fact, at some of the world's finest Universities…." Caroline smiled down at the crowd, making eye contact with students and parents between glances at her text, which she'd mostly memorized. Still, it made for better presentation to occasionally reference notes.

She caught sight of Eleanor and her family – caught Eleanor's eye in particular and smiled at a convenient applause line. Eleanor returned it with a sly one of her own and wink of approval, and Caroline felt her heart speed up. She glanced down at her text.

"…. Of course we're all proud of each and every one of you. But many have earned exceptional honors, and I'd like to bring up our Dean of the Faculty to mention some of you graduating with particular accolades."

* * *

Jonathan nudged his sister. "You've done well for yourself, Eleanor. All around."

"I rather think I have, big brother. Thank you." She nudged him back.

Two seats over, Margaret smirked and fanned herself with her program.

* * *

"Lawrence Jonathan Elliott." Caroline read off Lawrence's name, and to her surprise felt a sting of tears. She stepped back from the podium before giving a quick sniff. He made his way up and across the stage. Caroline handed him his diploma and extended her hand. He shocked her, and grabbed her for a quick hug. She hugged him back and they parted happily, awkwardly.

She turned back to the podium. "A mum's privilege, I suppose." She narrowed her eyes in a smile and the crowd gave her a good-natured chuckle.

* * *

"June Margaret Strathclyde." Caroline smiled broadly at June as she made her way up to the dais. She glanced over at Eleanor quickly, who was a mess of tears, of course. She looked back to June, who offered a firm handshake and a wide smile. "Thanks, Caroline." Caroline nodded at her, again a quick sting of tears. _'It's always an emotional day, isn't it?'_

* * *

"Ah no way. A Boss Chronograph. Loaded up." Lawrence put an arm around Caroline, a wide smile on his face. "Thanks mum."

She smiled. "You're welcome, Lawrence. And it's engraved on the back."

He turned it over.

" _Congrats. I'm proud.  
Love, Mum."_

He grinned. "Love you too." He blushed, looked down. "I'm pretty proud too, I suppose."

"Well you should be. I'm glad you stuck with it Lawrence. I really am." Caroline looked him in the eye – something he'd grown much more comfortable with over the past couple months – and smiled.

The extended family had gathered at Caroline's house to celebrate Lawrence, a few of his mates popping in and out from their own parties. She glanced up at the sun and down at her watch. She was headed over to Eleanor's for a quick hello to June in a few minutes.

"You look handsome." Jane came over and pointed her beer bottle at Lawrence, still wearing suit and tie from the commencement ceremony.

"You mean handsome, _as always_." Lawrence crossed his arms across his broadening chest, new watch on display.

Jane stepped forward to study it, gave a low whistle. "Nice." She took a sip of ESB. "You ready to start up with us full time?"

He grinned. "Yeah I am."

She shoved his shoulder. "Good. First things first. Don't show up hungover on Monday."

He smirked and gave a quick upward tilt of his head. "Right."

Caroline frowned at them, but wasn't quite sure how to voice her disapproval, so she settled for a low "mmmmmmm" and a stern glance at Jane, who shrugged.

She gave her a mocking shrug back. She turned and gave Lawrence another hug. "I am proud of you." She stood back and ran a hand down his arm. "Back in a bit."

Lawrence ducked his head. "Right."

* * *

"So June – summer term at down at Exeter, before you start? I'm jealous." Caroline pulled back from hugging June, who'd been seeing off a friend and met her at the door of Eleanor's house.

"Oh my gosh, right? I'm so excited."

"When do you leave?"

"Early next month."

"Well we'll need to do something special – the five of us girls, to see you off."

"That sounds great Caroline." She nodded. "I'd totally love that."

Caroline smiled back. "Good. Now where's your mum?"

"Out on the patio. The blubbering mess. Can't miss her." June winked at Caroline as they parted, and Caroline went to find her 'blubbering mess' of a girlfriend.

* * *

Margaret ran a finger around the rim of her cocktail glass and studied Eleanor across the patio, chatting with Jonathan and Bella. "Well at least in London she'll have Emma to take care of her."

George set his scotch on the patio table, and it spilled over the rim. "That is the stupidest thing I have _ever_ heard you say, Margaret." He added a pointed index finger for effect, a rare show of temper.

Margaret waived a hand. "Nonsense. Eleanor needs someone to take care of her. Or at least someone to take care _of_. You know that, darling. She'll be paddling about without the girls."

"Even if that were true, and I'm not sure that it is, _that woman_ is the last person I'd like to see return to Eleanor's life."

"She's stood by her George. And _you_ don't know the _half_ of it." Margaret sipped her drink, studied Eleanor at the other side of the patio. She narrowed her eyes over at Caroline, who had just arrived. "And that woman, Caroline, has finally shown that she's in no way committed to our daughter. She's ambiguous, when it comes to our Eleanor. And I won't have that." _'I knew better from the outset.'_

"Caroline has been wonderful for our daughter. For god sake - look at the way Ellie smiles at her. She glows." George smiled himself.

"Little good that will do her hundreds of miles away. Face it George. Caroline's fly by night. Eleanor needs stability."

"Eleanor is forty-seven years old, dear. She needs whatever it is that _she_ decides she needs." George was allowing himself to be dragged into an argument with his wife. Which he always lost, one way or the other. He was disappointed that Caroline wouldn't be able to join Eleanor in London. But it was the 21st century. Things were possible.

Margaret finished her drink and turned to face George fully. She placed her hand high up on his chest near his shoulder. "You're darling. And you love Eleanor to death. But I'm right."

"You're not, Margaret. But I suppose we'll just agree to disagree."

"Why change what's worked for fifty years?"

"Why indeed, darling." George sighed and picked up his scotch. It was time for a refresh.

* * *

Despite the ghost of tears past, Eleanor looked radiantly happy and beautiful as ever to Caroline. She came up behind and beside her, where she was speaking with Bella, and ran an arm across her back and around her hip. She planted a kiss on her cheek. "Congratulations."

Eleanor turned and wrapped her in a giant hug, exhaling as she did so. "Thank you." She shut her eyes tightly and squeezed Caroline tightly. "You didn't warn me."

Caroline laughed. "About what?"

"What it was going to be like – watching June walk across that stage."

She stepped back and met Eleanor's eyes, filling with fresh tears. "You wouldn't have believed me."

Eleanor fetched a tissue from her pocket and swiped at her eyes. "Still. It would have been the decent thing to do."

"Next time. I promise." They exchanged a private _well_ _hello to you too_ glance before Caroline looked over to Bella, held out her hand. "Hi Bella."

Bella stepped up and gave Caroline a giant hug. "Oh I think we're past formalities. And it's a day for hugging."

"All right then." Caroline smiled in happy surprise, and hugged her back.

"And I've had a couple glasses of champagne. So the good will isn't hard to come by."

"It rarely is, Bella. That's what makes you so _charming_." Margaret and George appeared behind Eleanor.

Bella released Caroline and turned to Margaret. "Your son always thought so." She smiled broadly and nodded to George, before walking off and into the house.

Caroline gracefully ignored the exchange and stepped forward to offer first George, then Margaret, greetings. She remembered the annual June-time feeling of being over-hugged.

"Congratulations to both of you." She tilted her head to them and stood right at Eleanor's side, and took and held her hand tightly.

"Thank you Caroline." George raised his glass. "And I think turnabout is fair play here. Another crop of our best and brightest successfully grown to fruition under your capable guidance. Including a handsome son of your own. Who I understand is pursuing one of our noblest professions."

Caroline inclined her head again. "Thank you George."

"Indeed. What would the youth of Harrogate do without you?" Margaret smiled sweetly. Eleanor squeezed Caroline's hand, and neither woman's expression slipped at the innuendo.

"Frankly I have no idea." Caroline smiled brightly. "Eleanor, dear, I'm famished. I never have a chance to eat at any point on these busy days." She looked over and took in the mix of emotion on Eleanor's face. She turned back to George and Margaret. "I'm terribly sorry, but if I could steal your daughter for a moment?"

"Of course." George's eyes were warm and smiling.

Margaret's tried to be, but she wasn't quite able to pull it off. "Of course. Enjoy your – moment."

* * *

The two women slipped through the crowd, hand in hand, and stole upstairs to catch their breath. Caroline went immediately to the dresser and leaned on it while she escaped her heels. Her back was killing her. Eleanor followed, closing the door after them. She leaned, boneless, against Caroline.

"I'm totally and completely exhausted." She gave an exaggerated sigh and then stood up. She grabbed Caroline's head in her hands and kissed her, before pulling back just as abruptly and walking over to hurl herself on her back across the bed.

Caroline stared, incredulous, at her mercurial girlfriend. She same to sit at the edge of the bed and rubbed her feet. "I don't know why I take them off. It's always so much worse when they have to go back on."

Eleanor sat back up, slid to the edge of the bed and stood. She sat cross legged at Caroline's feet. "Let's have them. Right one first. But we've only got a few minutes. People will start to wonder."

Caroline smiled, put her foot in Eleanor's lap, who began kneading her sole with her thumbs. She leaned back on her elbows and closed her eyes. "I have told you, recently, how much I love you, correct?"

"Not nearly recently enough."

"I am desperately in love with you."

Eleanor moved upward to Caroline's ankle. "You are not. You are desperately in love with a good foot massage."

"Both facts can be true. They are in no way mutually exclusive."

"Mmmm hmmm." Eleanor smiled up at Caroline, smirking at her. "Left."

Caroline swapped feet.

"Margaret seems in fine form today." Caroline sat up.

"She's like a cat in cream since I've told her about London. I've no idea why."

"She's still none too fond of me."

"That's her poor judgement." Eleanor shrugged, ran her thumbs across the top of Caroline's foot. "That should help you through the rest of the day."

Caroline stood and offered Eleanor a hand. She unfolded herself and stood. Caroline put her hands on Eleanor's waist. "I know what would help me more."

Eleanor tilted her head down. She traced Caroline's collar bone with the tip of her finger and looked up at her through her long eyelashes. "I think my bad manners are beginning to rub off on you."

"Hardly." Caroline pulled her closer and kissed her, smiled at her with twinkling blue eyes. "I think you have excellent manners."


	26. Chapter 26

"I'm sorry we weren't able to work a weekend away together before you leave for New York." Eleanor speared a few leaves of limp lettuce, but did not take a bite of the salad that sat warming on her plate.

"I'm sorry as well. It would have been nice. Of course summer's less busy with work on my end, but it tends to fill up so quickly, doesn't it? Somehow feels even fuller." Caroline smiled and pushed the remains of her own meal around with her fork. They'd agreed at the last minute to an unscheduled lunch. It was getting on in the afternoon, and the thrill of seeing Eleanor was rapidly waning as the reality of their departures became heavier.

Caroline nodded. She was scheduled to leave for New York with Flora a few days after Eleanor was already due to be in London. And Eleanor was, in fact, now scheduled to be spending at least a week in London each month for the rest of the year, in addition to the full month of August. She'd finalized it this morning and told Caroline over lunch, and it had shifted Caroline's mood.

"Well I'm glad you've really been able to spend time with William in the next few days before he leaves for Tel Aviv. I know you're anxious."

"I mean, it's Tel Aviv, Eleanor. He'll be on my mind every minute."

"Same with June and Lily. And they'll be relatively close." Eleanor reached across and took Caroline's hand and they smiled at each other, mutual reassurance from nervous mums. Caroline's unhappiness with Eleanor's priorities didn't mean she didn't still take comfort from her strength. "It's hard to have them leave the nest."

Caroline thought about William – and about Lawrence. The pain of his leaving the nest had been much different than William's, and it weighed on her. Still, he seemed happy. More than that, he seemed on the path that was right for him, and that was making things between them easier all around.

Eleanor frowned. "How's Celia? I know you'd been trying to convince her to see someone."

Caroline set her fork down, finally just abandoning the rest of her meal. "Well I've finally managed it. She's an appointment early next week with a gerontologist who specializes in – 'cognitive' troubles. I insisted she go before I leave." Caroline was clearly flustered. She threw up both hands in frustration and shook her head, suddenly animated. "Because you know how that goes. Nothing happens until I return, then back and forth about scheduling - next thing we know it's September."

Eleanor nodded. "It's easy to procrastinate when it comes to unpleasant tasks. I'll hold my hand up there." She finished her salad, took a long drink of water. "Will you call me, afterward, and let me know what happens? Please?"

Caroline was quiet, and Eleanor leaned across the table on her elbows. "I am sorry about Celia. I don't know what outcome to wish for, but I do wish for the best."

Caroline nodded. She was excited to make the trip to see Ginika, worried about her mum, and already missing Eleanor. _'One day at a time, Caroline. It's the only way this will work. No expectations.'_ "I'll miss you these next few weeks. Every day, I think."

"I don't know what I'd do without the girls with me in London this next week. They're terribly excited, because I'll barely have time to keep them under my thumb. I've already had to quash several pipe dreams involving clubs and curfew extensions." Eleanor shook her head. "And of course Lily's the ringleader. She's several bands she wants to see, and none of them even start before ten pm. I've told her we can go to one – and I've no idea how I'll manage to keep myself awake for it."

Caroline laughed at the thought of Eleanor in a cardigan and trousers, totally done in after a long day at work and propped against a grimy wall in a London club, dozing. "Well if I were voting on best mum, you'd get it for even agreeing to one show."

"Thanks." Eleanor smirked and raised her eyebrow. She sat back and crossed her arms as the waiter deposited their check. She waived Caroline off and handed her card to the waiter. They sat in silence as they waited for him to process it, Eleanor quickly signing and standing as he handed her card back. She replaced it in her wallet and slung her work bag over her shoulder, with a thin smile to Caroline.

She held out her hand and Caroline took it as they left the restaurant, both women still quiet. After a quick, silent walk, they arrived at the Jeep, stood facing each other and holding hands.

Caroline smiled, eyes shining, made shy by the strength of her emotions. In the context of everything else, an ocean away in America seemed like a world away.

Eleanor squeezed her hands, ducked her head to meet Caroline's gaze, which was cast down to the pavement. "This is why we wanted to do this privately, isn't it?"

Caroline nodded and looked up, sniffed, and put a wrist to her eyes. She thought about last night, and how wonderful it had been to be with Eleanor, the connection they'd intentionally created. Driven in intensity by the knowledge of how long they'd be apart. Three weeks felt more like a couple months as the reality of their new status-quo began to sink in.

And then Caroline thought about how hard it was when Eleanor had left the bed so early that morning, how much she'd hated that feeling. It had still been dark. She even remembered, in a tactile way, the feel of the cool sheets next to her as Eleanor had showered. She had slid her hand over to Eleanor's side of the bed, which prematurely seemed to be lingering with her absence. She brushed the memory aside. It would be fine. It would get easier. It would all just take getting used to.

She looked down, thought about the evening a little more. Looked up again shyly, but with a hint of fire in her eyes. "I enjoyed our goodbye as well."

* * *

Eleanor was refusing to let herself feel lonely already, with no intention of showing up to work covered in tear stains. She let go of Caroline's hands, placed one of hers over Caroline's chest and tilted Caroline's chin up with the other to meet her gaze. She thought about last night as well. She dwelled for a moment on the physical memory of it and let that light her eyes and lift the corners of her mouth in a puckish grin.

She moved one hand down to Caroline's waist. She slid her other hand up from Caroline's chin, over her cheek and behind her neck. She leaned in and kissed her. She tucked Caroline's long blond hair behind her ear before whispering, lips traveling over Caroline's hairline, grinning. "I know I'll need weeks at least to recover from you last night, Caroline Dawson - and how you've made me feel. About us. So I'm not worried. The time should just fly by."


	27. Chapter 27

"Well it's a tough pill to swallow, love. What that young man, the doctor, implied today." Celia's stretched eyes were distant and sad, and anxious. Her thoughts wandered to the past and connected to the present. "Of course your father's stroke changed him in an instant. He lost himself, I lost him, overnight." She placed her hand over Caroline's, next to her on the couch. She held it firmly, still not looking at her daughter. "Not sure what's worse then. The long slow decline or the sudden change."

Caroline's own vacant eyes were fixed on the early July summer sky and the trees swaying, gently, out the French doors of the carriage house. She felt both unfocused but diamond sharp. Most of her fears were for Celia. But there was room in her head for her own fears as well, and her own future. Like Celia, she kept replaying the conversation with the young gerontologist.

* * *

"Of course it's early days. We've ruled out anything hormonal, or anything having to do with imbalances. So we're left with a couple possibilities." His demeanor had been gentle and inclusive. He made eye contact and spoke directly with Celia most of the time. But he was careful and intentional about looking over to Caroline and Alan as well. "It could be, Celia, that you suffered a very small ischemia during or just after your procedure last summer. Just a temporary lack of oxygen in a small and specific part of the brain; but it might have done a bit of damage, which may or may not progress. It can present like dementia. We will do additional testing to see if we can uncover that." He smiled encouragingly.

Caroline, Alan, and Celia all stared at him, blankly. Waiting for more information to come forth. Knowing that there would be no 'or it's all absolutely nothing' follow up, but still hoping for it.

He recognized the early shock on all their faces, taking the very first step in coping with change, the struggle to accept it was really happening.

"And it's also very possible that you have something more permanent, such as dementia, or Alzheimer's – that might, someday, become more progressive. Might. Someday. I want to emphasize those words to all of you." He looked pointedly to each of them, expression optimistic but serious. "The test I've done today, with you Celia, is a very simple diagnostic tool. It's not definitive, but it does strongly indicate that you are forgetting things in a way that's more than complex than can simply be accounted for by 'growing older.'"

Celia nodded to him, still silent, as were Caroline and Alan. "I've written some things out for you. Basically reiterating what we've talked about. But I've also included additional information on next steps and further diagnosis."

He handed the folder to Celia, who took it quickly and smashed it into her purse. "Like I said, it's early days. And you've done well in coming in at the first signs for treatment. It gives us – all of us – many more options." He looked pointedly, approvingly, at Caroline. Early in the day she'd been combatting Celia's vociferous objections to the whole event. Celia's objections had ceased, and she'd been significantly subdued after her time alone with the doctor, after working hard to perform memory tasks she knew should be simpler.

He stood, and they all followed suit, numbly and instinctively mimicking the actions of those around them as they struggled to reclaim agency in the face of emotionally overwhelming news.

The doctor held out his hand to Celia, who smiled tightly and shook it. He repeated the action with Alan and Caroline. "I'll have the admin schedule a three-month follow-up with you. For now, let's just keep our eye on things." He smiled reassuringly once again, natural charm and kindness creating an organically soothing bedside manner. Again they all smiled back, hollow.

* * *

Caroline came back to the present, sharing a muted tea with Celia after their long day at the medical plaza. It was stiflingly hot out for Harrogate, unusually so for July and humid to boot. The heat had only added to the fatigue they all felt. Alan had gone in to the bedroom to lie down, and she and Celia spoke in hushed tones. They hadn't wanted to go to the house for tea. Celia hadn't wanted to be far from Alan, and Caroline hadn't either. She'd simply put on the water the moment they'd arrived, and they hadn't needed to speak their accord.

Their extremities were still cool from the forced air in the doctor's offices and in the car, and the tea cups were comfortably warm in their hands. They sat together, carefully perched side by side on the couch, each silently mulling their waxing and waning fears.

Celia spoke, startling both of them. "Of course he did say it's early days. So no need to lock me up straightaway, I suppose." Celia pushed the issue forward in the way she knew how, with blunt force.

Caroline's tears spilled over at her mother's insinuations, voicing the scandalous, unwilled, and panic-driven conclusions of her own thoughts. She turned her head sharply and frowned thunderously.

"Stop it, mum. Just stop it. Don't do – what you do. Don't be flippant about this and dismiss it."

"Since it's my mind on the blink, I think I'll do or say whatever I'd like, Caroline." Celia leaned back and regarded Caroline with motherly authority.

"It's your mind, mother, but we're all in this together. All of us. You, me and Alan. Gillian, the boys, all of us." Caroline continued on, tone stern but voice low. "Don't act like it's not true." She pointed her finger at her mother for emphasis.

"I suppose." Celia looked away in dismissal, her well-worn way of acknowledging someone else's truth without admitting her own fault. "And don't point, Caroline. It's not polite."

Caroline sighed. She put her tea cup down. She turned to her mother and took her hands. "I do love you, mum. And I am here for you. You know that." She squeezed them briefly, let go and stood, hands on her hips she looked down at a Celia, who seemed so much smaller than she had that even just this morning. Caroline bent, put her hand on her mother's shoulder and kissed her cheek.

"I'm off to collect Flora from Greg's. I'll be back in time to make dinner."

Celia's expression softened and she held up her hand to Caroline as she turned to leave. "Thank you, love." Caroline took it and gave it a final squeeze before she turned and left, tears still standing in her eyes, as they would be for the rest of the afternoon and evening.

* * *

Caroline dialed Eleanor on her way over to collect Flora. It was late afternoon now, Eleanor was likely still in the thick of it in her office. It rang through to voicemail and Caroline smiled hearing Eleanor's familiar deep and warm voice on the outgoing message, lyrical and mischievous. "I'm sorry I've missed your call. I'm sure I'll want to talk to you, so please do leave a message."

"Just me. Wanted to hear your voice. Took mum in to see the doctor today." Caroline paused. She realized she had not yet figured out how to talk about Celia. She sighed audibly. "Mixed news - I suppose you might say? Anyway. We can chat more later."

She sighed again as she clicked off, head in her hand and elbow crooked against the window. She rolled through the familiar streets, all blurring into one as she automatically and unconsciously made the lefts and rights on her way to Greg's.


	28. Chapter 28

"There's more than a mile of tread between 'hey girl what's your name?' and 'you wanna get married?' - and it sounds like you two are lost somewhere along that road." Ginika replaced her iced tea on the low table between their Adirondack chairs. She pondered the dense wood behind her house and gave Caroline a chance to think about the truth she was handing around.

"I suppose we are." Caroline sipped from her own tall glass. It was cool and strong, black and lemony. She followed Ginika's gaze, studying the thick stand of aspen that bordered the back of the property, giving way to a mix of beech, maple, and willow just beyond. "Flora and I should come for a visit in the fall, sometime. I think it would be lovely here." She looked over to Ginika and smiled, eyes calm and dreamy with the magic of the summer gloaming and the thick air of the upstate New York summer night. It was scored by the frogs from the nearby creek and the cicadas in the willows. It was funny, the tidal flow of the sound. You might not even notice as it built, but it was deafening at its peak. Only during the ebb and the silence did you realize the space it had taken up in your ears and in your mind.

"Mmmm hmmm." Ginika took another drink, finished her glass. The ice clinked. She shook it. "Another?"

"I'll be up all night." Caroline was disappointed. The tea fit the night and the place. She would have drunk it endlessly. "Let's put out decaf tomorrow."

Ginika nodded. "I forget how you kids can't handle your caffeine."

"I don't know if I should regard that as a compliment or not."

"You ought to just go ahead and take everything as a compliment. Especially if it's coming from me."

"Alright." She finished her tea, tipped her glass toward the older woman and replaced it on the table. The dark was coming on quickly now, and the landscape lights were coming up. She and Ginika, with help from Flora - then the very young electrical engineer - had replaced them all last year with solar. Caroline admired how their work had endured the time between visits.

They sat quietly. With the exception of the first night and the first blush of excitement in visiting Grandma G, Flora went down instantly during their New York stays. They ran her, and Caroline, ragged each day - in the garden, at the creek, and at the playground. Where she was now old enough and verbal enough to be fascinated by the local vernacular.

Caroline picked up again where her thoughts had ended, as they always did here in the same way. Memories of Kate that made her smile. "You know, it wasn't easy with Kate, either. At all. But it was easier, too. Because she wanted to start a family. And now that I have Flora - I'll admit. I wanted to have a family – again." Caroline was still gazing at the trees, blending into each other in the fading light and separated only by the relative dark and light of the different colors of bark.

Ginika hadn't yet turned on the overhead deck lights and the two women were an outline, side by side in profile in the dim.

"It was quite easy to think about stepping back into that mold with Kate. It was wonderful, to imagine my world put straight again – but even better. Finally having the life I'd dreamed about a very long time ago - and given up on. It became suddenly very real."

"And then it wasn't."

"Right." The ice was melting and shifting in their glasses. Caroline picked hers up, twirled it, and drained the little liquid that had accumulated again.

"I won't dwell on things, Caroline. Because I don't like to, and because I think you have a right to move on. So let's just call this next thing here reminiscing." Ginika looked over, and the moon was up just enough now that Caroline could see a lonely smile.

"Alright."

"Now I don't know that you're going to like how I start the reminiscing. But you'll be fine when I finish, and that's what counts."

"Alright."

"I did not like you one bit, Caroline. When Kate first told me about you. I even told her she ought to leave you. And I'm glad she did, when she did."

The silence from Caroline was accepting but heavy, and she was glad for the cover of impending night.

"And I think you're woman enough to agree with me, so I'll continue." Ginika turned to try and find the outline of a deer that had come on to the property, just at the edge of the copse by the driveway. You could hear it, barely, moving through the underbrush when the cicadas quit their racket.

"I was glad she left you, because Kate was far too much in love with you for what you were giving her, for how you treated her. Oh but you were just _magic_ to her, Caroline. I could hear it in her voice - how much she indulged you and how much it hurt her. How selfish you were with her, at the beginning. Sometimes it made her someone she didn't want to be. Someone a little bit desperate."

The moon was up enough for Ginika to see the tears standing in Caroline's eyes.

"You see, I'm an old, wise woman. I was even then. And I've been through my own divorce. I followed Jim all around America, and even back to England. All the way to Yorkshire, where his people were from. It was a wonderful adventure, a wonderful way to spend a life. But when we broke, the marriage broke, and we realized we couldn't fix it, all I wanted was to feel _made whole_ again. For me that meant coming home to New York. I figured that's where you were in life when you met Kate, wanting to be made whole. And she was a means to an end. I had your number, Caroline, right away. I saw who you were, what you needed, and I knew what you wanted. And I wasn't at all convinced that what you wanted was good for Kate."

Caroline looked down, sniffed, nodded.

"But I changed my mind when you stepped up to be a real partner to my daughter – when you said you'd support her and give her and my granddaughter the kind of family she deserved. Because, now, that was something different all together. Agreeing to raise a child that wasn't yours – wasn't even your idea. That was you finally getting outside yourself to be who Kate needed you to be."

Ginika paused, acknowledged the divide that Caroline and Kate had crossed to change that reality. "Because when someone is that in love with another person, the way Kate was with you, mesmerized and forgetting what it means to be strong - well, it can lead to a lot of heartache."

Another pause, and a shift in tone and mood. "But you were the woman – you are the woman, that Kate needed you to be. I think you can be that for someone else, too - for this Eleanor." She paused and looked over. Caroline didn't need the moonlight to read her stern expression and pick up on her meaning. "And that's what I'll say about that."

Ginika shook her head and chuckled, picked up in the middle of her own thoughts. "Lord. I'll never forget it. I'll never forget Kate on the phone that morning, when she called to tell me that you two were getting married. I was standing right in that kitchen –"

She pointed to the end of the deck, to the house, where the lights were on and low, glowing off the warm wood that accented the creamy walls.

"I was leaned over the counter finishing the crossword and drinking coffee that had gone cold. Kate was giddy. 'Oh you won't believe it, mum! What's happened – she's asked me! Caroline's asked me to marry her! And I've said yes!' She sounded like she did at five years old when she'd come running out of her bedroom with a quarter from the tooth fairy. Abject amazement and delight all rolled into one."

Caroline tilted her head back and gave a half-laugh, half-cry. "I do remember her telling me she was going to go call you. And she was rather excited."

"So that's what mattered to me - and what I remember about the two of you. The way Kate's voice was when she spoke about you. The giddiness and the awe. And the way you showed up for her when it counted."

Caroline nodded. It was full dark now, just the quarter moon and the stars. She sighed, then smiled. Her voice was as thick as the night air. "I remember how that felt. To be there for someone who deserved it - for Kate - and to know she would be there for me. That was new. That feeling."

More heavy silence. She sniffed again, and her voice grew thicker. "I'd do it all again with Eleanor. I'd try it all over again. I wasn't sure that I'd ever be up for it, until I really met her, knew her, just this past year. But I am up for it. With her." Caroline nodded at herself.

"Mmmm hmm. There it is." Ginika stood and picked up both their glasses. She started toward the kitchen. "This part of the conversation happens inside. Where I can look you in the eye."

Caroline gave a real laugh this time and followed Ginika. The change in the light dazed her for a moment, but it lifted the mood and livened the conversation.

She took a seat at the high side of the countertop. Ginika put their glasses in the dishwasher and turned back to her, leaning on the low top. Caroline was taller, particularly when they were positioned this way. But she felt smaller, Flora-sized and eager to learn from the grown-ups.

"So that road I mentioned earlier. Just where along it do you think you wandered off?" Ginika had said she meant to look Caroline in the eye, and she did.

Caroline didn't mind the scrutiny. It wasn't that she didn't know how she felt about Eleanor. "I think it might have been around the time we thought we might move in together. Or at least talk about it. And Eleanor decided to move to London instead, to take a promotion – to be CEO at her company."

"Well that'd do it." Ginika stood and crossed her arms, her look became a little defensive. "It sounds like she ran things right off the track."

"A little, yes." Caroline smiled at herself in admonishment. "I don't know that I've positioned that exactly fairly. I mean, that's what happened. But she did ask me to move with her, to London. And I decided not to. So I suppose we each had something of the responsibility."

"And how far is it – to London? If I remember it's what, a couple hours-ish?"

"Yes. Three or so by car or rail. About an hour flight, but once you consider all the hassle of the airport…" Caroline found a coaster to fidget with, head tilting from side to side as she voiced her ambiguity.

"Not a daily kind of commute."

"Nope."

"But you could split your time – or Eleanor could split her time."

"I suppose. Yes. That's what – that's how - we're going to do it. I think."

"You think?"

"We've not discussed it in detail."

Ginika regarded Caroline, silently.

"We need to discuss it in detail."

"And you haven't already - because?"

"Because she's been clear – or at least, I think, tried to be clear – that even splitting it, it won't be like we are, even now. And I think she knows I want _more_ time with her, not _less_." Caroline frowned.

Ginika nodded. "Sounds like a lot of assuming going on between you two. And you know how that word breaks down."

"I don't think I do."

"Assume. Makes an ass out of you and me. You're not an ass, Caroline. In fact I think I just told you I thought you could be the woman you need to be. For Eleanor, and you know, for yourself." Ginika watched Caroline fidgeting. "But you think you want more than you think Eleanor can give you?"

"No. Not exactly. I think I want more of her time, more of a _partnership_ , than Eleanor can give me commuting to London. But I don't want that with anyone else. I want it with _her_. Because I think she's a little bit - perfect - for me." Caroline flipped the coaster down to the counter in finality, frustration. "It's going to be fine. I'm sure we'll get used to it. I'll make it work, for her. We can't always have everything exactly as we want it." She sighed, yielding to life's refusal to give her every single present she'd asked for at Christmas. "And you're right. We need to talk."

"Mmmm hmmmm." Ginika crossed her arms over her chest and smiled at Caroline. _'Ah to be young again.'_


	29. Chapter 29

"You've got the 'we need to talk' face on." Eleanor dropped her bag in the entry, hands on hips as Caroline kissed her cheek in greeting. "That's not at all what I was hoping for."

Caroline squinted at the bright morning sun. She closed the door behind her disappointed girlfriend. "Actually, I've got the 'ten hours traveling with a toddler with a sinus infection all day yesterday' face on."

"Oh no. Oh no no no. You mentioned sniffles - but it's escalated?"

"It has. She's fine. She'll be fine. She's with Greg and nurse Jenny. They've missed her so much they didn't even balk at our little bundle of crying, flying phlegm." Caroline sighed and chuckled.

"But it still broke your heart when they took her home."

"Yep." Caroline held out her arms out for a much needed hug, and admitted to herself the enormous relief it was to see Eleanor. She felt lighter. "But I'm not going to complain about the peace and quiet."

"You don't know how happy I am to see you. I've missed you terribly. More than I ever have, I think."

She turned her face into Eleanor's hair, drinking in the soft texture and familiar lavender smell of it. "You took the words right out of my mouth."

Eleanor stepped back and stared at Caroline. "It's easy to forget how blue your eyes are." She picked up a lock of hair resting past Caroline's shoulders. "Long summer-blonde hair and a touch of sun. You look positively American. So much fresher than the somber Londoners I spent the month with. I wish I'd been with you. Whatever we need to talk about Caroline – " she paused. "Scratch that. I know what it is we're going to talk about. But it's going to wait. First, we're going to relax and do nothing. I'm going to stare adoringly at you, and you're going to tell me delightful anecdotes from your trip. And I'm going to make up wildly amusing stories about London that make it all seem impossibly exotic."

Caroline turned and walked into the living room smiling to herself. Eleanor followed her. She plunked onto the couch, and Eleanor folded herself directly next to her.

"And somewhere, before, after, or even during the course of those other insignificant events, we are going to mate like rabbits in springtime."

Caroline leaned her head back against the couch and closed her eyes. "Is that what it's called, then? What we do, you and I? _Mating?_ Is this an obscure lesbian code word I haven't yet learned?"

"I don't know. I don't care. I was simply being direct."

"I like that about you."

"Tell me what I can do for you, right at this moment, my travel-weary mum."

"Tell me how much you love me."

"I'd rather show you."

Caroline smirked and barely shook her head, not wanting to provoke the tiny headache lurking at the base of her skull. "Never stop, Eleanor. Never stop."

Eleanor snuggled up under her arm. "I've reserved us two nights at Willow Farm – the B and B, just out of town, if you're up for it. Less than twenty minutes away and the deepest soaking tubs in Harrogate. We can go both nights, one night, or neither."

Caroline, still in her pajamas and still tired from jet lag, closed her eyes. Her thoughts were hazy - luxuriating in Eleanor's presence and voice pouring all over her, just as she'd been anticipating. "You're the only person in the world who could tear me away from my own bed tonight, and I'll go willingly."

"Well I think a space outside of our everyday is going to be a lot more conducive to this conversation you think we need to have."

Caroline frowned. Eleanor reached up and ran a finger over the wrinkles on her brow. "We also need to do something about this."

"I have some ideas."

"So do I." Eleanor untucked herself and stood, walked into the kitchen and put on the kettle. "Jasmine green. The only thing for it."

"I'm so desperate for a decent cup of tea, I'll drink your green swill."

Eleanor twirled and pouted at Caroline, who smiled. She'd tucked her legs up under her on the couch and turned against the corner to watch Eleanor making tea and plating biscuits. She took her in, loving that Eleanor knew where everything was, comfortable in the space. Eleanor turned back to face Caroline as she waited for the water to boil.

She caught Caroline's eye, watched her for a moment. She raised an eyebrow. Then, she smiled and sprinted across the kitchen. She threw herself on top of Caroline and began to cover her in kisses. "I did tell you how desperately I missed you, didn't I?"

"You did. But I definitely prefer you showing me." Caroline began to laugh as Eleanor moved down from her face, raised up her thermal and began pecking her midriff.

"I've missed every inch of you."

They smiled and laughed together. The water finally boiled and the kettle whistled. Eleanor extricated herself and stood. "Don't move."

Caroline crossed her legs and her arms, still turned on the couch to watch Eleanor. _'This is what I missed. This is what I thought about the whole time I've been gone. This.'_ Her heart continued to lighten. The separation had magnified her fear and skepticism. With Eleanor here, she felt anything might be possible.

Eleanor returned with two cups of tea and two biscuits. She sat cross legged at Caroline's feet, nestled between her legs and leaned her head back. "Ginika's well?"

"She is. She's content with her life. I suppose she's happy with it. And she's a very happy grandmother. She's a good woman to spend time with. Smart. Wise. I'm lucky." Caroline rested her tea mug against her stomach and passed a hand through Eleanor's soft hair. She teased up a long lock of it and ran it through her fingers. "Come with me, next year?"

Eleanor didn't respond immediately, but when she did turn to look at Caroline her eyes were bright. "That would be lovely."

"Good." She leaned forward, over Eleanor, and took a biscuit from the plate on the coffee table. Eleanor smiled up at Caroline as she smooshed her.

 _'Everyday, I've missed this.'_

* * *

They took Eleanor's car that afternoon, though Caroline drove. Truthfully, she really enjoyed the Land Rover. The handling, acceleration and transmission were far superior, smoother than the Jeep, and it hadn't taken her long to appreciate it.

"During a moment of weakness Lily convinced me that she and June would be perfectly fine – for one night – out in London. No pubs. And home by 9pm, of course."

"And?"

"They made it back at 9.05. I let it slide. I barely made it back myself, from the office."

"How magnanimous of you."

"Magnanimous is letting you drive my grown-up car." Eleanor reached into the console for her mobile. "I haven't had time to perfect our musical selection for the weekend. I'm counting on a lot of bath time, and if we muck up the music it'll all be for naught."

"I don't think a bath is ever wasted."

"Mmmmm. Not when they're spent with you. I'll give you that." Eleanor studied her mobile. She held it further away, then closer.

"Yep. Magnanimous." Caroline chuckled, her attention on the road. They'd arrived. She pulled through into the drive. It was perfectly summer, perfectly warm and pleasant. Lush green gardens and hedges, manicured grounds that were far from sterile.

She pulled into a spot at the front that seemed to be waiting for them. They grabbed their bags. Everything was comfortable all of a sudden, from the way they held hands to the fit of their jeans. Nothing had changed in the last day, really, for either of them, but the presence of the other. An instant effect that soothed and invigorated.

Eleanor left Caroline in a chair in the lobby, breezed up and checked them in. She turned back and flashed the keys along with a wide, mischievous smile. She walked back over and took Caroline's hand as she stood. "Let's go do what we came to do, then."

"Right."

* * *

"The light is still fine. Should we walk?" Caroline fidgeted with her earrings at the bureau, finally just took them out. She pulled up her hair, off her neck against the summer humidity.

"Yes. And after, I demand you provide me wine and cheese."

"It's a deal."

Eleanor came up behind her, hair already back and up, and cool enough in a tank top. She rarely wore them without a cardigan over, and Caroline wished she did. She ran her hands down Caroline's arms, and Caroline could see the heavy waiting in her eyes. She forced a smile, then let it become genuine, indulgence at Eleanor's silent persistence.

"Come on."


	30. Chapter 30

It was quiet out. They were quiet, content for the moment and strolling hand in hand.

Eleanor felt the still tension underneath Caroline's ease and waited for her to come out with it. She was sure about Caroline, but not about how to handle her in the moment, or how to address it.

"How will we manage London, Eleanor? You being gone so often?"

There it was.

"How do you want to manage it?"

Caroline let go of Eleanor's hand, and crossed her arms. She looked down, then over to Eleanor. "Will you come back, on weekends?"

Eleanor nodded. "As often as I can. I'll take Fridays and Mondays when I can, work from Harrogate, when I can, as well."

Caroline gave a brisk nod in return, staring hard at the foot path. "As often as you can."

"It's not what you want." Eleanor took Caroline's hand again as her arms drifted back down to her sides.

Caroline shook her head. "It's not. I want you with me every day. Every morning, and every night. It's selfish. But it's what I want." The gravel path seemed disproportionately noisy beneath their footsteps.

"We'll find a way to do that."

"Will we?" Caroline turned, a spark of frustration in her eyes. Eleanor's words were what she wanted to hear, but she resented the implication that it would be easy.

"Yes." Eleanor stopped and turned to Caroline, at the edge of the path and the woods that bordered it.

"How?"

"I don't know – yet. What I do know is that I'm not willing to even consider the alternative."

Caroline nodded, but her sentiment wasn't agreeable. "Denying something painful doesn't change it."

"It doesn't. But neither does forcing an outcome. Eleanor tried an old line. "Will you wait for me, Caroline, as I – as we – figure it out?"

* * *

Caroline looked back, silent. She stared, unsure what to say, but wanting to say yes. She opened her mouth to protest, and saw the sting of anticipation in Eleanor's eyes at the expected retort. She was silent again, was finally tamed by Eleanor's vulnerability and the earnest trust in her eyes. She smiled patiently, and they both exhaled. She made a confident expression. "I can." A self-assuring nod and a real smile this time. "I will."

Eleanor put her hand to Caroline's face. It was dim and cool under the canopy of trees where they'd stopped. The sun hadn't set yet, but it was already twilight at the edge of the woods. The inn was beginning to glow, off in the distance in the waning summer light.

Caroline broke the surface tension of the silence. "So we're going to be – we're going to commit – to this? Figuring it out together - and - the long haul? That's what you want?" Caroline interrogated Eleanor, expression stern for the promising content of her question, but a smile creeping in.

"It's what I want. Desperately. An evolution. A commitment, as we chart these uncharted waters. If we're going to succeed, if this isn't going to end up breaking my heart – I think it's the only way. I'm ready. I've been ready - and waiting for you, I might add." She slid her hand down to rest at the center of Caroline's chest, her own smile growing. "What I don't want is to think about a point in my future that doesn't include you. And I don't want to think about my future anymore. I want to think about ours."

Caroline looked right back at Eleanor. "Yes. An us – a long-term us. That's what we're both talking about here? Clumsily? Starting to build a life - together?"

"Yes. I'm saying yes, here, Caroline."

The new light and the wild hope in Eleanor's eyes pulled Caroline in far deeper than Eleanor's words ever could have. They were quiet again, but beginning to grin as their exchange began to sink in. Caroline felt uncertainty starting to leave her, and her need for Eleanor beginning to fill the space left behind. A happy need to hear Eleanor say things like what she'd just said, over and over again – enough ways and enough times that she could make herself believe it was real, that they would last, even across the distance that would come between them.

"Yes. Okay." Caroline's eyes gleamed, both women staring, humming with joy and promise.

"Okay." Eleanor grinned and studied the ground, looked back up to Caroline with an unmistakable fire in her eyes. "We've said it. We're in it for the long haul. We both want to try."

"Yes. But here's what I don't want, Eleanor." Caroline leaned in and kissed her chastely. "I don't want to wait for you another moment today." She pulled back before Eleanor could return the kiss. "I'm finally tired of endlessly talking and holding my breath. We're just going to stop processing and wondering. We're just going to do this."

Eleanor's smile in return was wicked and broad. "Oh thank god. You have no idea how l've been dying for you. Every single second since I came over this morning."

"Oh no." Caroline looked at her pertly - daring. "I have every idea."

Eleanor looked around and frowned. "I'm not shagging you on a scratchy pile of pine needles and moldy leaves." She took Caroline's hand and pulled, setting off at a near jog.

Caroline let go of her hand and stopped, crossed her arms. "I won't be dragged off to bed like a cave woman." She played with Eleanor and flirted with her just for the fun of it, for the weightlessness she felt in her heart, and for the sake of response.

Eleanor's expression as she turned back bordered on actual rage. She glowered at Caroline. "I have no idea what's happening right now or what you are doing. But I don't have time for your attitude." She crossed her own arms and Caroline shrugged in response.

Eleanor's frown deepened. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"Oh I rather think I choose the hard way. Whatever that means."

"It means you're coming back with me – without delay. If I have to sling you over my shoulder and carry you."

Caroline's eyes widened. "Not possible."

Eleanor took a step forward and arched her brow. "Watch me."

Caroline remained rooted, expression now intentionally skeptical as she eyed Eleanor up and down.

Eleanor took another step forward. "This is going to be embarrassing for you, Caroline."

"I think you've got that the wrong way around." Caroline delighted in Eleanor's consternation, and almost burst out laughing.

Eleanor took another step. "Last chance."

Caroline opened her arms wide. "Go for it."

Eleanor bent and lowered her shoulder into her, and sure enough, up she went. Caroline actually squealed, completely embarrassed and completely shocked.

Eleanor turned, centered, and started back down the path. "I have absolutely no idea how long I can do this. We've really got to work on the household biscuit consumption."

Caroline swatted her.

"Careful, darling. I'm deadly serious now." Eleanor walked on. "This situation is completely precarious."

Caroline laughed. "All right. All right. I give in."

Eleanor stopped. "Thank god. But one more time please, just for the record."

"I give in." Caroline was beginning to giggle hysterically.

Eleanor bent as far as she could before rolling them both onto the long grass. Caroline tumbled off, still laughing. Eleanor lay sprawled out next to her.

"You are the only woman I know completely committed to acting against her own self-interest. I swear." Eleanor panted as she lay on the grass.

"Meaning?"

"Why in the world would you completely exhaust me, immediately before I had every intention of spending hours ravishing you in bed?"

She rolled over in the soft green grass to face Eleanor, propped herself on her elbow. "Completely exhausted?"

Eleanor closed her eyes. "Completely."

"Then why do I think you'll still beat me through the door of our room?" She smiled and stood, offering a hand up to her prone girlfriend.

Eleanor took it and stood. "Because you know me so well." She winked and set off without waiting. Caroline jog-stepped to catch up and took her hand - they double timed it back.


	31. Chapter 31

Caroline looked over to the dining room as they entered the lobby. "Are we stopping for wine – or cheese?"

"No need." Eleanor forged ahead down the long hallway, up the stairs, key in hand already.

She opened the door and waived Caroline through.

They paused, suddenly realizing that the walk back and the significance of what had passed between them had made them both a little shy. They caught their breath.

Caroline's silence was heaviest. She tilted her head at Eleanor, standing next to the bed. She felt reassured, but she wanted more. "Eleanor. Can I ask – why do you love me?"

"Mmmm." Eleanor made a serious face, contemplative. "Good question." Her eyes were sparkling and Caroline smiled. Eleanor continued. "It's tough because I really don't have an hour or two to spare at the moment. So I'll abbreviate. And then, I think, I'd prefer to show you why I love you."

Caroline put a hand on Eleanor's waist, hooked a finger from the other around the gold locket Eleanor wore that carried their picture, before looking up at her expectantly. "And how are you going to show me why you love me? That seems tricky."

"How am I going to show you? Very thoroughly." Eleanor wrapped her arms across Caroline's back over her t-shirt. "I love you, Caroline, because you're strong. You're brilliant. You don't take shit from anyone, even me." She put a finger on Caroline's sternum. "I love you because you're the most devastatingly gorgeous and sexy woman I've ever known. You're clearly beautiful. But why you're sexy…." She tapered off and paused to take off her own tank top. "I think those are the things I want to show you."

Caroline smiled, still looking for affirmation but already bursting with anticipation and happier than she'd felt in a very long time. Eleanor pulled off Caroline's t-shirt. She turned Caroline's wrist out and kissed a small white puckered line an inch up her forearm, turned it back to Caroline for inspection. "I love you because you got this five years ago pulling a roast out of the oven. Lawrence shouted something at the football game on the tele, and it startled you. Your arm hit the top of the oven wall. You almost dropped the whole roasting pan on the floor, but you didn't. You hung on to it."

Eleanor's face was still smiling and serious. She reached around and unhooked Caroline's bra, reached back and undid her own. Caroline kissed her while she was distracted, and Eleanor was sidetracked for a moment. She bent to slide off Caroline's jeans, settling on to her knees on the floor in front of Caroline, hands on either hip.

She kissed her stomach, nipped it softly with her teeth and ran her hands over it. "I love you because your belly is completely adorable. Because you love wine, and most of all you love my scones. And you're soft in all the right places."

Eleanor sat back on her heels and stood. Caroline was courteous enough to help her off with her own jeans along the way. She kissed the top of Eleanor's shoulder, completely seduced, relaxed and coiled, waiting for what she knew was coming. Wanting it to happen immediately and wanting Eleanor to continue on indefinitely.

She let Eleanor ease her on the bed. She crawled back on her elbows to rest on the pillows, Eleanor's eyes locked on hers and clearly still full of things unsaid. It maddened Caroline and she pulled her forward by the shoulders, down and firmly against her. She changed her mind. The explaining could wait. She pushed Eleanor over and pinned her, moving her mouth across her collar bone and beginning to demand things with the rest of her body.

Eleanor made a pouting whimper and pulled back her shoulders. She chastised Caroline with her eyes. "Allow me time to answer your question, please."

Caroline relaxed and let her roll back over on top of her, palms planted on either side and hair falling over both of them in a curtain. "I love you because you'll be vulnerable to me. You'll let me be in charge." She bent down and kissed Caroline's jaw, nipped again with her teeth. She slid her hand over the breadth of Caroline's chest and around to her back. She rolled over off of her, pulled at her shoulders and eased Caroline back on top of her. "But not always, and not always when I want to be." She pulled her down to rest on her fully. "I love you because you're substantial. In every way." She pushed up with her hips and slid her hands down Caroline's sides, snagging the last scraps of their clothing until there was nothing between them.

Caroline was kissing down Eleanor's jawline, resolved to wait and now enjoying the delay. Eleanor pushed Caroline back over. It was warm in the room. The last of the dark orange sunset was pouring through the curtain. She kissed Caroline's chest, breasts, her skin already salty.

Eleanor let her hands roam freely and Caroline didn't stop her. She closed her eyes and savored the feel of it. She moved under Eleanor, with her, matching her, grasping her shoulders and thinking about their conversation this afternoon, replaying what it felt like to feel Eleanor's commitment to her.

"And this is the part where I stop talking. Finally." She moved down the length of Caroline's body until she was where she wanted to be, had been wanting to be for the past two weeks.

Caroline exhaled from the very center of her chest, arching her back and smiling in relief. _'God I've missed her.'_ She relaxed into Eleanor, but only for a moment. As she felt the initial flood of calm recede, she felt an incoming tide of desire rush up to replace it. More memories of the day rolled over her, images of moments with Eleanor and snippets of the conversations that had led to where they were now. The memories exploded together inside her mind as Eleanor worked expertly in concert with her body. She grabbed the sheets tight in her fists and cried out - sat bolt upright, desperate still, but satisfied, chest heaving and breathless, suddenly confused as the dizzy haze of feeling wore off and clarity of the moment returned. Eleanor slowed, paused and waited. Caroline shuddered again. She fell back and made a small noise of dissatisfaction at the absence of Eleanor's body over hers.

Eleanor's smile was one of complete satisfaction as she moved back up over Caroline, covering her and calming her with her own weight. She kissed Caroline's neck, waiting for her breathing to slow.

When it did Eleanor pulled up, just a little, enough to look directly into Caroline's tranquil blue eyes as she spoke. "We can do this as long as you want, Caroline. You and I. As long as you'll have me."

Caroline had recovered herself enough to meet Eleanor's gaze. Her eyes were their brightest, clearest blue, and very wide. Then they crinkled in a smile and she nodded, voice soft and deep, still a little breathless. She wrapped her arms around Eleanor's neck. "Yes Eleanor. I think I want to do this with you. All of it - for a very long time."


	32. Chapter 32

"We've a green BMW, license YA67WTF. Possible driving with excess alcohol."

Lawrence groaned, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

His partner, Sam, clicked off and looked over at him skeptically. "This boring you?"

"Nah." Lawrence shook his head. "It's my fucking dad." He inclined his head to the car stopped in front of them.

"What – in the BMW?" Sam laughed. "Bad day for you, mate."

"I'll say."

They had followed the car for about five minutes as it proceeded lazily through Harrogate. Occasionally drifting lanes when the street was empty and taking more time at stops than necessary. The car had finally stopped at its own accord outside a row of flats. When it did, they'd given a quick caution siren and flipped on their lights.

The radio chirped back to life. "Sheet's clear on the Green BMW. Two unpaid parking tickets, though."

Lawrence picked up the mic and answered. "Got it. Thanks."

He exchanged another look with Sam, who was not that much older, but much taller and broader than Lawrence. He also had a black five o clock shadow that came in much closer to half-two in the afternoon. They got out of the unit.

Sam approached the driver the BMW, Lawrence lingering at the boot. Sam leaned over to the open window.

"Good afternoon, sir. Do you know why we pulled you over today?"

Lawrence groaned again when he heard his dad respond.

"Well you didn't really pull me over, did you? I'd more say that I parked, and you parked behind me, and then put on those rather gawdy lights. Are they really necessary?"

"They are, sir. Can I see your driving license and vehicle registration?"

John's hand appeared from the window momentarily. He handed the docs to Sam, who walked back and handed them to Lawrence. "Go ahead and run them."

Lawrence ducked his head and returned to the patrol car. He could still hear the excruciating conversation as it played out.

"Can I ask you to step out of the vehicle, sir?"

"Yes, you can of course ask. And I can step out of the vehicle."

The door opened and his dad stepped out. His affect seemed little different to Lawrence than usual.

"Can I ask you, sir, if you've had anything to drink this afternoon?"

"Yes, once again, you can ask. And I can respond. By saying this - as a matter of course, I've had many things to drink this afternoon."

Lawrence groaned for a third time. It was difficult enough to tell his dad's states apart, when he was sober and when he wasn't, for his own family. To the rest of the world he must seem in a perpetual state of inebriation.

Sam shot a scowl over at Lawrence, who gave an exaggerated shrug.

"All right sir. Let me be more specific, then. Have you had anything to drink this afternoon that contained alcohol?"

"Ah. There we go. Accuracy. The foundation of productive dialog." John leaned against the car, placed his chin in his hand in reflection. "Yes. I had a pint at the pub across town. The setting there is quite perfect. Inspirational, in fact. You see, I'm a writer. If we're still being accurate, a novelist."

"I see sir. And it was just the one pint?"

"To the very best of my recollection, yes."

"And is there a reason, sir, that your recollection might be impaired?"

"Well of course there are several reasons for the impairment of recollection, aren't there? When we really think about it. The primary, of course, being the unreliable physiological and psychological nature of memory itself. The very flawed assumptions we bring to our experiences in the first place. Of course there are many, many more potential answers, but I doubt you're up for a philosophical discussion of the subject – at the moment."

Sam shot a darker look over to Lawrence, who only shook his head.

"As a matter of fact I'm not sir, and I'll get right to the point. I believe, from your actions and from the smell of you, that you've had more than one – or two – pints this afternoon. And that you were operating a vehicle while unfit through drink or drugs. I'm going to ask you to submit to a breathalyzer test. Please remain standing next to your vehicle."

"Now really, there's no need for all that. I think what we have here is a misunderstanding." John placed his chin in his hand. "You see, I've arrived safely home. I live – here," he gestured up the row. "And I've parked and I'm home and have done no harm. By that very fact I believe I'm quite innocent of any offence."

"That's technically not true, sir. I'm going to ask you again to stand here and wait, while I prepare the test."

"Waiting – it is the nature of life, is it not?" John crossed his arms and contemplated the grey sky.

Sam returned to the patrol unit. "That's your dad? I can see why you're a man of few words, Lawrence."

"Oh can you, now?" He made face at which his partner only laughed.

Sam collected the license and registration. "Stay here. Don't want insinuations that you muddled this if it comes to court. In fact, call in a second unit. Anyone from the area. Let's keep this neat and tidy." With that he got out of the car and went to the boot to collect the kit.

"Right." Lawrence picked up the mic again, radioed in the request. He shoved himself back in his seat and exhaled loudly. "Bloody fucking hell."

He waited in the car while the next unit showed up. He'd rolled up the window, uninterested in hearing John's further protestations. He watched his rather animated movements until he was completely over the whole thing. He fished a procedure manual from under the seat and turned his attention to that.

The door to the back seat opened. John appeared, head ducked. He looked up and had the decency to look completely crestfallen. "Ah. Lawrence. Good to see you, boy. The humiliations of the day are now complete."

"Yep. Pretty much, Dad." He shook his head and looked over to Sam, who shrugged and smiled in sympathy.

* * *

Caroline was torn between laughing hysterically and hurling her mobile across the drive.

"Absolutely not, John. There is no way on earth, in hell, or in the heavens, that I am coming down and freeing your miserable ass from that jail cell." Her voice had reached the pitch reserved exclusively for John. In the doorway Eleanor winced.

"I don't care that I'm the only one that you could call."

"Lawrence, our son, was doing his job, John. Responsibly, in fact. I'm quite proud of him."

"That's correct I don't care." Caroline seethed. This was, if not the last thing she wanted to be doing at the current moment, exceptionally low on the list. They were packing the car to take Eleanor to London for the month of August, and her mood was already dark. She considered the full load in the Jeep. _'It looks like she's – well - moving – I suppose.'_

She returned her attention to John's whining. Would nothing, nothing, teach that man a lesson? She smirked. Perhaps not a lesson. But perhaps a further foray into humility might do him some good. Her as well.

"Fine. Fine. Out of the kindness of my heart - out of the very deep well that is my good nature - John, I will arrange for you to be bailed out."

"Oh you're quite welcome. But you may want to reserve your own good will. Yes. Bye bye."

She clicked off and glowered at her mobile.

* * *

"Well this is all terribly predictable, isn't it?" Celia sighed, purse clutched in both hands below her waist. She favored John with the most pious and piteous of expressions. "You're a rather pathetic creature, aren't you?"

The bedraggled man looked up and winced. "Ah. Just when my day seemed at its very worst. Of course. Celia."

"A fine bit of gratitude for the one who's about to spring you from these grand accommodations." She looked around the small cell block with unmasked condescension.

He grimaced at her and bowed. "Thank you."

The officer beside her stepped forward and unlocked John's cell. He snatched up his jacket and ducked his head at her, then at Celia.

She continued to stare at John, not even attempting to hide her disdain throughout his check-out procedures, thinking of Caroline and Lawrence and doing her best to make John feel as small as possible.

They walked out into the night, and down the street. John nodded at Alan, leaning against the Lexus. They all piled in for a very silent ride back to John's flat.

"So what's next for you, then, John? Get pitched from a funeral, perhaps?"

"Oh I don't know, Celia. Gloriously punitive fines. Perhaps jail time. The host of possibilities are delightful and endless." John grimaced.

Alan looked at him through the rearview. "I hope you've apologized to Lawrence."

"I have not yet seen my youngest boy. So no. I have not." Another grimace. "Would it – just – it's just that I've had a rather long day. Might we – just – be silent?"

Celia turned and looked back, face now covered in disapproval. "You are a complete waste of oxygen, aren't you?"

John shifted in the seat and gave an exaggerated sigh. "I suppose, Celia, that I am. Thank you." He bowed his head and turned to stare out the window.


	33. Chapter 33

"Of _course_ you can stay at the house, Lawrence, for as long as you'd like." Caroline pinched the bridge of her nose. She was happy that her son still turned to her, when he needed her. Angry at John, a feeling entirely familiar.

"Well I'm with Eleanor in London now, so fetch a fresh set of sheets for your bed when you do get home."

"Yep. Of course. Always. I love you, Lawrence."

"All right. Bye bye."

She turned to smile tightly at Eleanor, who was making a sympathetic face from across the room. She came to sit next to Caroline and handed her a glass of white wine. They'd arrived earlier that afternoon and stayed in, taken tea in the well-manicured private garden in the back. The place was large enough to feel on vacation without even leaving it.

"He's chucking himself out of John's flat."

"Coming back to stay with you?" Eleanor's eyes widened. "Are you happy – or not – about that? I'm having trouble reading you today."

Caroline took a healthy drink from her glass. "I'm _happy_ , of course. But he's not a boy anymore." She scowled. "What he really needs is to find his own place. But I won't be telling him that any time soon." She swirled the wine and drank again. She studied the muted streetlights through the sheer curtains. The front of the flat looked out over an expansive walled park, just on the other side of the narrow street. As dark came on the street became quieter.

"I assume this move is in reaction to John's most recent and most pathetic alcohol-driven iteration of self-destruction?"

Caroline was caught off-guard by Eleanor's uncharacteristic phrasing and smiled in response. "An unusual choice of words for you, but yes."

"John deserves a language all his own. Usually embellished, and mostly consisting of four letter words, as far as I'm concerned."

"Agreed." Caroline scowled and nearly finished her wine. Eleanor raised her brow as Caroline continued her rant, and Caroline ignored her. Actually, she raised her voice further. "In any case, apparently it's not going well today for Lawrence at the station. Seems this is the perfect opportunity to give the new man a good ribbing."

"I can see how that might happen."

"He mentioned that Jane gave him a bit of personal classified intel on some of the other men to use in retort. But he's really had a day of it and he's completely _pissed off_ about the whole thing." She drained the last of her glass. "Sounds like he's been off his dad for a while now, and this just pushed him over."

"I wouldn't argue that call." Eleanor took a small sip of her own wine.

"Well neither would I." Caroline was agitated. At John, at Lawrence, Eleanor. In no particular order and letting all of it spill all over into the other. No one was doing anything in her life the way she wanted them to be doing things. Her eyes fell this time on a photo of Eleanor and the girls on the banquette across the living room. Eleanor and her family. Eleanor and her full life she'd been leading before Caroline had even entered the picture.

"Caroline."

She turned her head abruptly. "Yes?"

"Come back to me."

Caroline didn't respond, but rose and went to the kitchen to fetch the bottle of wine Eleanor had opened. She returned, still silent, refilled her glass and topped Eleanor's. She placed the bottle on the table, not gently.

Eleanor regarded her and crossed her legs between them on the sofa.

Caroline looked back over to her, expression still tense and lips set in a thin line. "I'm happy to be here with you. I am. But I'm certainly not happy about why we're here. And I won't apologize for that." She felt her temper beginning to rise, and welcomed it. It was better than the encroaching loneliness.

"It's alright. I'm not asking for an apology. I'm just asking for you to be present, right now, while we're here, together." Eleanor smiled tentatively, reassuringly. She reached out, took Caroline's hand.

"I'm not in the mood for your condescension right now. I don't need you to comfort me, Eleanor." As though that were possible. There was no comfort as Caroline looked around the London flat and imagined herself walking out the front door just two days from now.

Eleanor closed her eyes, nodded her head slowly and retracted her hand. She smiled brightly. "Oh you are in an awful mood, aren't you? Fine. I'm going in to the kitchen to make popcorn. You choose a movie. Something light, please. I think we could both use a laugh. And I could use some extended time on the couch with nothing between us except our very thin cotton pajamas."

She rose from the sofa and walked into the kitchen.

Caroline sat on the couch, stewing. She saw right through the woman, refusing to take her bait and playfully pushing her buttons. She couldn't decide if it made her more or less irritated. A movie did sound like exactly the thing, though. She thought about settling in, and remembered what she'd brought with her to give Eleanor as a 'going away' present. She drained her wine glass again and stood and walked down the hall into the master bedroom.

She noticed again the en suite as she passed. Remembered the vivid thoughts that had filled her mind when she'd first caught sight of the walk-in steam shower, and grinned despite herself.

She opened her bag and rummaged, pulling out two sets of neatly rolled pajamas - navy with white trim and sky blue with navy trim. She stripped down quickly and put on the sky blue, buttoned up, and turned up the sleeves that were a little long on her. She turned to look in the mirror. The set created an amusing effect on her full frame, but all in all she thought, quite adorable.

She laid out the navy pair on the bed and walked out and back toward the kitchen, where Eleanor was pouring the popcorn from the pan and into a large wooden bowl. She set the pan back on the stove and Caroline wrapped her arms around her from behind.

"I'm sorry."

Eleanor smiled and grabbed Caroline's hands at her waist, turned her head back toward her. "No apology necessary. Bad moods are inevitable."

"I've brought something for you."

Eleanor's turned. Her eyes sparkled as she first caught sight of Caroline costumed as Eleanor, and she put her hands to her mouth. "You are positively edible."

Caroline smiled. "Thank you. But _this_ isn't your gift."

Another twinkle in Eleanor's eye at the mention of a present.

Caroline smiled indulgently and inclined her head. "In the bedroom. Off you go."

Eleanor set off with an excited look back to Caroline, who nodded and made a herding gesture with her hands as she followed.

Eleanor was already stripping off her shirt when Caroline caught up. She turned back, happiness all over her face. "They're absolutely perfect." She held up the pajama top, then turned it over in her hands. On the cuff Caroline had had Eleanor's initials embroidered, "EAS" white thread in bold block letters.

"I love them. Thank you." Eleanor's eyes were warm and joyful, and the effect rubbed right off on Caroline.

"I thought they might be just the ticket for you. Had a hunch, anyway." Caroline grinned. "And now we match." She held her arms wide in a T for Eleanor's examination of their complementary wardrobe.

Eleanor laid the pajama top back on the bed and walked forward, placing her hands on Caroline's hips. "We do match, you and I. I don't need a pajama set to see that."

Caroline's eyes crinkled in satisfaction. There was no point in missing Eleanor and being cranky about it while they were in the same room. "I couldn't agree more."


	34. Chapter 34

"Have we _not_ talked about you dragging me about like a _cave_ woman?" Caroline laughed as Eleanor pulled her down the sunny street the next morning, both of them starving.

"Have _I_ not told you that Mermaids is my absolute favorite bakery on the face of the planet?"

"Yes. You have. Several times in fact."

"Well then?"

She picked up her pace to match Eleanor's, and they were almost short of breath upon arrival, grinning at each other as they walked in to the bakery. The bell on the handle rang as Eleanor shut the door behind them.

Caroline immediately recognized the small, trim redhead waiting at the espresso bar as they walked through the door of the bakery. Emma looked up and over. She smiled broadly and her green eyes gleamed. She came forward immediately to greet them. First a clutch on the shoulders and a chaste kiss on the cheek for Caroline, then grasping Eleanor's arms. A raking gaze and a much less chaste and lingering kiss very near the side of Eleanor's mouth.

Still with her hands on Eleanor, "Why imagine this. I'd hoped to see you again Ellie – but so soon? The stars must be aligned." She stepped back and regarded Eleanor, gave a very quick dismissive look to Caroline

Each and every hair on Caroline's neck stood on end, and her vision seemed to dim. _'so soon?'_

* * *

Eleanor looked over to Caroline to see the cold fire in her eyes. She felt suddenly ten again, the younger sister left holding a vase Jonathan had broken just as Mum walked into the room. She felt the distant rumble of thunder rolling through Caroline. She felt the familiar inability to manage Emma, and felt the two emotions mingling, fear and powerlessness. Very far back in her eyes was a flicker of panic as long dormant ghosts began to materialize in the fog of her subconscious.

"Oh I'm sorry. Have I said something to upset either of you?" Emma studied them, eyes alight. "Wait just a moment. I've got to fetch my tea. I'll be right back. We're not nearly done here, are we? So much to catch up on."

Caroline turned to Eleanor. "Well." She drew out the word and her pitch was high, her tone overly sweet. "It seems London really has kept you quite busy." She pushed even more saccharine into her voice.

"Don't be daft, Caroline. I'll tell you all about it – though there's nothing to tell – when we're rid of her." She put her hand on the center of Caroline's back."Don't play her game. Come on - I need a pastry. Immediately."

* * *

Caroline stepped up to the counter. "Ceylon please, and a pan au chocolate." She looked over to Eleanor, wearing a distracted expression and staring at the pastry case. "And an earl grey, a white chocolate cranberry scone as well."

She noticed Emma across the way, eyeing Eleanor between sips of tea.

"To take away, please." She paid and picked up the blue and brown pastry bags.

They walked around to the counter to wait for their tea. Eleanor stood numbly in the space between Emma at the nearby table, and Caroline at the counter, looking at neither woman and seeming pained at the possibility of incurring the wrath of either. Caroline was not pleased with the start to her next to last morning in London.

Their tea came up. Caroline handed a cup to Eleanor and they walked up to stand over Emma, who gestured for them to sit.

"Oh that's alright. We're in a bit of a rush, really."

Emma's narrow pink lips twitched. "Well nothing to fret over. I'm sure I'll have more than plenty of time to catch up with Eleanor now that she's moving back to London."

"I doubt that. I'll be quite unavailable." Eleanor seemed to find her voice out of nowhere, and then suddenly receded again.

Caroline looked over at her, vexed and confused at her absolute lack of resolution.

Emma's coy little smile stayed firmly in place. "How long are you in town, Caroline? I can't imagine you have much time to spare with your family and work obligations."

"Just the weekend."

Eleanor resurfaced again. "We're making the most of it." Her use of entendre was familiar, but it rang hollow.

Caroline's agitation with both Emma and Eleanor was growing. Why had Eleanor suddenly become so annoyingly docile? She crossed her arms and looked over to signal her absolute desire to be finished with the whole thing. And then she stopped being annoyed.

Suddenly, even through her rising temper, she caught something she'd never seen in Eleanor's eyes. Intimidation. It was deep and unmistakable. She looked over to Emma, and saw something else entirely - possession and victory. As she watched she saw the equation slowly continuing to alter, running to imbalance, Eleanor emptying while Emma grew.

Through all the stories she'd now heard, and the confessions Eleanor had made about Emma, Caroline had developed a strong dislike for the woman. She felt that dislike evolve into loathing - instantly - as she saw the Eleanor she knew begin to flicker and fade before her. Her expression again grew thunderous as her attention returned to the conversation.

"….of course I'll need to have you for dinner. Soon, Ellie." Emma glanced at Caroline and tossed her a meaningless smile. "You as well. If you're ever in town."

Now Caroline smiled at Emma, every tooth on display. She wrapped an arm around Eleanor's waist and turned her confident smile to the quiet stranger next to her. "Darling we _are_ going to be late if we don't get going."

She nudged her playfully with her hip, trying to instill some sort of momentum.

Eleanor nodded her head sharply. "Right." She turned to Caroline. "Right."

Caroline turned back to Emma. "I'd say it's been lovely to see you, but it really hasn't, has it?

Emma's eyes widened, then narrowed. "I suppose not."

"Okay. We'll be off then." Caroline moved her hands up to Eleanor's shoulders and began to pivot her toward the door.

Emma stood and made to approach Eleanor again, opened her arms. "A hug for the road. I just can't get enough of you Eleanor."

Caroline positioned herself in between them. "I don't think that's necessary. Eleanor doesn't appear to be in a hugging mood."

The amusement in Emma's eyes began to fade. "Do ring me, Ellie darling."

Eleanor grimaced. "I don't think so."

"She doesn't think so." Caroline shrugged at the small redhead and guided Eleanor out the door.


	35. Chapter 35

"Let's walk a while? It's a lovely day. Still cool enough out. We've plenty of time to get to the museum and we can stop through Hyde Park on the way." Caroline had gone scouting for activities as soon as they'd confirmed the trip down. She'd struck gold immediately. A Julia Margaret Cameron exhibit, one of Eleanor's favorites, at the V & A, one of Caroline's favorites.

"Sounds perfect." Eleanor crooked her arm through Caroline's and smiled thinly.

They walked on, slowly and quietly. The arrived shortly at Hyde Park, and as they made their way into the green, a breeze picked up. It broke up the late morning August humidity and rustled the leaves of the great oaks.

Eleanor took Caroline's hand and led her over to a bench. "Come on. Sit down and I'll tell you everything. Well, nothing, really, because there's nothing to tell." Eleanor sighed and they sat, still finishing their tea. The breeze brushed by again, lifting their hair. Eleanor pulled a stray lock from her face.

"It's what Emma does. Stir trouble. If you let her."

Caroline moved another strand of hair that had blown onto Eleanor's face, tucked it behind her ear. "I'd rather not let her. So let's hear about it. I can't imagine it really is anything Eleanor. I don't think there's a dishonest bone in you, when it comes right down to it. It's written all over you, when you have something to tell. You're surprisingly transparent that way, actually."

Eleanor smiled shyly. "I suppose you're right." She seemed to collect herself, almost visibly. The light in her eyes rekindled and she smiled. She leaned over to kiss Caroline on the cheek and rolled her eyes as she began. "She brought me tea at the office one morning – last month. While I was here with the girls."

* * *

"Ms. Strathclyde? There's a woman here to see you?"

Eleanor removed her glasses and turned from her computer with a curious expression.

"Thank you Beth. What's her name?"

"Oh. One sec."

Eleanor missed Jeffrey. Beth came back to the door. "It's a Ms. Slattery?"

She frowned. She'd expected some kind of visitation from Emma once she landed back in London. But she'd assumed it would be scheduled. She chided herself for not knowing better.

"Send her away. I'm busy."

Emma apparated in the doorway and floated around Beth, tray in hand with tea and pastry. "That's not true in the least, Eleanor. You're never too busy for breakfast. It's the most important meal of the day."

"I am too busy, and I've already had breakfast." Almost involuntarily Eleanor rose, palms flat on her desk.

Emma set the tray down and came around the other side of the desk. She pecked Eleanor on the cheek, who shrank away from the contact.

Annoyed, Eleanor looked up at Beth, standing primly at the doorway with her hands clasped and expression vacant. She sighed and waived her off. "Thank you, Beth."

The woman turned and closed the door as she left.

Emma sank gracefully into a chair opposite Eleanor. She leaned forward, further than she needed to - giving Eleanor a more than generous glance at her low-cut blouse. She removed the tea from the tray. "Genmaicha toasted rice or jasmine green?"

Eleanor sighed. "Toasted rice." She eyed a smiling Emma warily and leaned forward to take the cup from her.

Emma paused half-way before handing it to her. "I stirred in a teaspoon of honey."

"You remembered."

"Of course. Why the dour skepticism, Eleanor darling? Aren't you glad to see me?" Emma took the jasmine for herself and pulled an almond croissant from the brown and blue pastry bag. Eleanor eyed it surreptitiously and Emma smiled. "You're welcome to half." She pulled it apart and held some out for Eleanor, who took a deep breath in and frowned before accepting it.

She took a bite and couldn't help it as the corners of her mouth turned up in the tinniest of smiles.

"My favorite teas and favorite croissant from my favorite London bakery? What do you want, Emma?" She finished the bite and rubbed her hands together briskly to brush off the crumbs.

"Only to welcome you home, dear. When Margaret mentioned you were moving back to London I was elated." Emma brushed her own hands together, then quickly down the front of her short skirt and crossed legs. She bounced her heel for Eleanor's benefit. Dior's, from the current summer collection of course. Shoes Eleanor would have owned in every shade before she'd had the girls. Emma had never been thrifty and still wasn't, apparently.

"Your shoes are lovely, Emma. Now what do you want?"

Emma drawled in feigned boredom. "Oh Ellie. You were always so truculent. I also remember that about you. But lucky for you I always found it so adorable."

"Lucky for me?" Eleanor took another deep breath, willed her pulse to slow. Glad to be in the office and surrounded by sigils of her accomplishments.

"Yes." Another thousand-watt smile from Emma. "Anyway. Seriously, now. All I want is to say hello and welcome you back. The city and I have both missed you."

"Fantastic. I appreciate the sentiment. You've completed your mission, and are free to leave." Eleanor put her glasses back on as a gesture of dismissal.

Emma purred. "I'm not your secretary darling. I'll leave when I please." She looked Eleanor up and down. "The glasses are new. I like them. Very CEO. You always were delectable. But still. Just…..mmmm."

"They're not really that new. And of course you wouldn't know that. Because I've made a point of you not knowing things." Eleanor's was tone growing sharp, despite her will.

"It's not my fault that we only see each other here and there. Bless Margaret for keeping me apprised. You've asked me to stay away. From you and the from girls. I've done as you asked, of course, but only because it's what you wanted, darling. It's not what I wanted." Emma pouted and frowned, still couldn't conceal from Eleanor the grin lurking just below the surface. "But now of course you've come back to London. To me."

"I told you. Never speak of the girls to me. And please stop calling me darling. And please do leave. I am busy." Eleanor stood, eyes on the desk and clumsily and ineffectively trying to push Emma with her actions. "Thank you for the tea and croissant."

Emma remained sitting. "You're quite welcome. You know my office isn't far. Perhaps we can make a thing of this." Again she raked her eyes over Eleanor.

"We're not making a thing of anything." Eleanor hated the edge of desperation now audible to her, and assuredly to Emma, in her tone.

"We'll see." The other woman rose. Again she circled the desk to kiss Eleanor on the cheek as she shrank away. Deliberately ignoring her body language, she placed a hand on Eleanor's shoulder and ran it down her arm, mingling their fingers. She locked eyes with her; this time no mischief in them at all. Instead a look of possessive determination. "You've always been stubborn." She abruptly donned a dazzling smile.

Eleanor didn't move, and Emma turned and walked out the door without looking back. "Always lovely to see you, my darling Ellie."

She remained standing until Emma left. She flopped back in her chair and exhaled forcefully. Were all ex-wives so impossible to handle with any aplomb, or just hers? Every time she was unlucky enough to encounter Emma these days, she seemed to just revert to eighteen-year-old Eleanor. She ought to be more confident now than ever. She ought not to have any of these old feelings to deal with, guilt, and need. It was just bad timing. She'd feel much better once Caroline were back in town.

* * *

"And that's that, as they say."

They'd both finished their tea. Caroline's eyes were cast down as she fidgeted with her empty cup. "She's not terribly respectful of you, is she?" She looked over to Eleanor with compassion, studied her intently with bright blue eyes.

"No. She's not." Eleanor turned and gazed off into the distance. Joggers and walkers and kids with kites everywhere, enjoying a warm summer morning in London.

Caroline shifted around to more fully face Eleanor, and slid closer. "What I don't understand, darling, is – and I'm going to try hard and say this the right way – is why – or, rather – how, I suppose, it is that she's gotten away with that? I mean, It's just not you to let someone – treat you – I mean, to let someone act that way - toward you, is it?"

Eleanor looked down at her own empty cup and turned it in her hands. "I don't know the answer to that question, Caroline. I really don't." She paused. It had been a very long time since Emma had taken up this much space in her thoughts. The grooves were smooth and familiar, but not in a comforting way.

"I think there might be a lot of answers to that question. Some of them have to do with me. Some with Emma. I think a lot of it –" she paused again. Honesty wasn't going to be easy, about this.

Caroline waited, expectant and trying to look as supportive as she could. The dis-ease in Eleanor was similar to what she felt sometimes from Gillian. The desire to confess something that made her deeply ashamed.

"I think the rest of it is how we are together. What we bring out in each other. It's hypnotic - compelling. And I have a hard time managing it, controlling it. Do you know what I mean when I say that?"

Caroline nodded. She wanted to smile at Eleanor. To ask 'Is that all?' As was so often the case, what felt so large inside oneself seemed so much smaller to others, as Eleanor's discomfort about Emma felt to Caroline. And yet somehow she suspected there were things about it all that had to run much deeper. She didn't like what Eleanor had said, and she didn't like Eleanor when she was around Emma. But she didn't much care for herself, when it came to John, and she truly did understand what Eleanor was talking about - two people and destructive synergy.

Eleanor stood suddenly, surprising Caroline. She held out her hand. "I don't want to talk about it, anymore – Emma – today - if that's alright with you." She smiled convincingly. "There are far, far more pleasant ways to spend a Saturday in London with the most brilliant and gorgeous woman I've ever met." She winked at Caroline and grinned.

Caroline took her hand and smiled up, barely containing the skepticism in her eyes, which Eleanor ignored. "Alright then. Onward."

* * *

"I told you to take it easy on dinner."

"Well I know you did, but it was all so totally divine." Caroline held her stomach as they wound through Covent Garden, headed to devour Eleanor's absolute favorite sticky toffee pudding.

Eleanor had a lot of absolute favorites when it came to London. Caroline couldn't believe they'd only made a dent in the list today. From the V&A they'd gone to the natural history museum to spend an impossible amount of time examining dinosaur fossils. Then to a favorite café for coffee, then off shopping and back to the flat to deposit their parcels, where Eleanor had granted clemency and allowed Caroline to soak her feet for a minute. As the dusky summer night fell on them, they'd made their way back out and onto the tube.

They'd just finished a ridiculously delicious Indian banquet in Soho. The walk was helping, somewhat, but Caroline wasn't quite ready for a final course.

"Don't think we're about to be ending the night." Eleanor pointed her index finger and made a very serious face.

Caroline gave her a murderous scowl.

Eleanor pouted in return. "Martinis back in Kensington, and then we're done. And I won't even make you take the tube."

Desperate for a reprieve, Caroline feel back on the last strategy she knew was foolproof, when it came to Eleanor. They paused at an intersection. Caroline hooked a finger through a belt loop of Eleanor's trousers. She tugged. "I have another idea." Not really – she was too full for anything other than sleeping in a bed. But she was desperate.

Eleanor looked over at her, grinning. "I'm for up anything involving you and my trousers."

Caroline started to speak, ready with a smart and seductive plea. She paused as the last thought in her head was swept completely away. It was dark now, and the city lights were glowing all around them, billboards, offices, street lights and cars. There was the ubiquitous cacophony of sound, and people jostling to get by them as the walk light turned green. Caroline remained still as Eleanor smiled in silhouette before her, framed by a sliver of the London skyline.

Eleanor's color was up and her dark eyes were full of the energy and anticipation of the city. Her wavy auburn brown hair hung all around her. Off her face but covering her shoulders and spilling on to her chest and arms. She wore the gold locket Caroline had given her, hanging just below the hollow of her throat and just above the last button she'd done on her scarlet and white striped shirt, collar up and framing her face. She was as vibrant as London. As graceful and sophisticated, as cunning and wicked. Full of histories as hidden and as flaunted as the city itself, and just as easy to love.

She'd taken Caroline by surprise and devastated her resolve from the very beginning. It occurred to Caroline that she'd been a fool not to see that from the very beginning.

She tugged Eleanor forward again.

They stood motionless amidst the crowd, Caroline's wondering blue gaze pouring over Eleanor and staring right into her with a demanding intensity that was almost disquieting, if Caroline thought too much about how deeply she felt.

She pulled an awestruck Eleanor even closer yet, their heads side by side, and whispered, quietly but with enough inertia in her words to carry above the noise of the street. "What have you done to me, Eleanor?"

Eleanor couldn't even smile. "I'm going to kiss you right now, in the middle of the sidewalk, in the middle of London. If you're all right with that."

"Yes." Caroline had barely breathed the word before Eleanor kissed her. They shut out the rest of the world and fell in love all over again, tangled in each other and the warm summer night. It was an impossibility that anything would ever come between them.


	36. Chapter 36

"Yes. You may definitely look at that book. Any of the books you'd like, Flora, on the bottom shelf only. And please remember to be gentle." Caroline beamed over at her, Flora clearly enchanted by the bright rows and more curious about the books than any of the toys they'd brought.

"Thank you Mummy." Flora smiled and turned back to the bookshelf opposite Caroline's desk.

"You're welcome."

It was unpleasantly warm outside on an early August afternoon, the dog days of summer sniffing around still and giving a good last go of things before departing. It was only a week since Eleanor had gone for the month to London. For no reason other than anticipating the length that her absence would last, Caroline felt herself alone in a new way than she did when Eleanor was only across town.

She had sacked the scheduled trip to the park that afternoon, or at least delayed it until later in the day, after the sun was lower and in time to take advantage of longer shadows. Instead it was the annual office clean-out in preparation for the start of term. As long as she kept on top of it the chore was never overwhelming.

Critical references she liked to keep at hand were kept two years, then they were sorted into the round file or a storage box. She'd nearly reached the back of the desk's file drawer, and her fingers traveled across a fat yellow folder, "Kate McKenzie 214." Intentionally vague, intentionally innocuous.

She paused, fingertips in place, then pulled it out slowly. She sat back in her chair and considered it for a while in her lap before placing it on the desk and opening it, the corners of her thin lips twitching upward.

* * *

 _'I have never in my life had this much respect for John. For men in general, I think.'_ Caroline stared at the three or four heavy brochures on her desk, each printed on thick paper in either shades of pastel or jet black, highly glossy or richly matte. They were more like booklets, really. She was overwhelmed and thoroughly intimidated.

She'd picked them all up in Leeds on the high street. She hadn't wanted to be seen, nor had she wanted to strike up conversation with any locals in Harrogate, on this particular errand. Partly preservation of the surprise, and partly embarrassment at being seen at the task at hand.

 _'It's not important that I'm embarrassed. I shouldn't even be. I'm not. It's important what I'm doing, and why I'm doing it.'_ She'd repeated that to herself several times over the two weeks, routinely before she set foot in any jewelers.

 _'Picking them up for my sister. Sounds perfectly reasonable.'_ Of course it didn't, and it sounded thin to her every time she said it to a kind-looking clerk, but it was enough to dissuade further inquiry. _'And it's none of their business anyway. Well it is their business. But not in that way…'_ her thoughts tapered off and she looked out the window at the trees dripping the last of the rain.

It was the first Saturday in February, a rainy morning giving way to a clear and crisp afternoon sun. Kate was home napping. Caroline had made an excuse to run to Sulgrave Heath. Kate had left her with a smile, only upon the promise that dinner would be pasta of any sort. Kate swung between bouts of ravenous hunger and a complete inability to eat anything. Very much feeling late term and full of baby more than anything else. Currently she was hungry. It might be the opposite when Caroline arrived home, but she didn't care. Whatever Kate wanted, Kate was getting.

She stared at the brochures, rotely turning pages. She knew her time was running out. Valentine's day was it. That was the day. The perfect day. And she needed the deadline because she knew otherwise she'd lose her nerve. And besides, there was the baby to think about. They'd addressed all the paperwork, but that wasn't really the point. _'The point is that you love Kate, and you're starting a family together. All perfectly normal. Easy as breathing.'_

Or not. All the rings were equally right and equally wrong. Solitaire or band? Band seemed… appealing, different, and non-traditional. But then again, Kate had worn a solitaire while she'd been married. Caroline vaguely remembered it, and remembered liking the look of it on her hand whenever she'd seen her play piano. It had been modest. Caroline had every intention of winning the size war, if it came to that. She narrowed her eyes and grinned thinking about it. There were a number of areas in which she was quite determined to excel over Kate's ex-husband.

As she considered further she decided it should be some sort of solitaire. A band just seemed too plain for Kate, her beloved artist, hopeless romantic, and undisputed creative force in the home. A contrast to Caroline in so many ways that sparked her curiosity and forced a fresh consideration of the world.

A solitaire. That narrowed it. By a fraction.

Caroline sighed. She'd browsed on the computer, but found it completely dissatisfying. This was a tactile job. The brochures were better. What she really wanted was to browse. To pause and consider and point, hold the ring in her hand, and try it on and imagine it on Kate.

But she wasn't there yet, wasn't quite ready to make the trip and confess the purpose to a complete stranger. She hoped to winnow the field to just one jeweler and make just one stop. Of course she'd need to see the actual ring in person. She'd need to touch it and look at it and deem it perfect. For a lifetime. The one ring that Kate would wear for the rest of their lives; would be the symbol of their love, viewed a million times by them and by others. Incite compliments and questions; "What a lovely ring. How did you pick it out? Who proposed to whom? How long have you been married?" Questions Caroline was becoming more and more excited to answer.

So it couldn't be ordinary. And it had to be Kate. Just exactly Kate. Caroline had never in her life picked out intimate jewelry for another woman. Never gone past, 'oh those earrings look like that other pair mum loves, they'll be perfect.'

She pushed aside one of the pastel brochures. Ridiculously fanciful and impossibly Victorian. It had to be feminine, of course. But not ridiculous. She picked up a black glossy booklet. It seemed the simplest. And it didn't need to be fancy. It just needed to be right. She shuffled pages. Kept returning to the back of the book and the simple solitaire, staring at the different shapes.

Finally, she plunked her finger down with authority and took off her glasses. _'Here we go.'_

* * *

"It's just that I haven't been able to find it anywhere else, this particular book, and it's the only one that says anything remotely interesting or intelligent on the subject."

"The subject of medieval alchemy? And you're all of a sudden interested because?" Kate's expression was mixed disbelief and amusement. Caroline's quirkiness never ceased to amaze and delight her.

"Because I am. One of the governors brought it up. That new woman who's always nipping at my heels. Quite out of the blue, actually. Asked a question that completely stumped me, and now it's just nagging at me."

Kate's eyes were softly skeptical, but it was little use to argue with Caroline. "Well you are right that I'd rather not make a trip to Leeds today, with the weather and all. When I'm not stupendously cold, I'm boiling hot. And it's miserable outside."

"And I'd hate to make you go. I'll just pop down. Grab a quick lunch on the run and be back before you know it."

"You will hurry back, though?" Kate smiled shyly at Caroline, the smallest widening of her eyes sweetening the question and decoding the dark wonder of the watchful gaze that held her in continual regard.

Caroline paused, bag crooked in her arm. She leaned in to kiss Kate gently on the cheek. "On Hermes wings, dear." She brushed a hand over Kate's stomach, still fascinated by it, still in wonder at her freedom to linger with her hands on another woman's body. This body.

Kate put her hand over Caroline's and they paused together for just a moment, enough quiet eye contact to satisfy both of them and leave them content.

Caroline clicked down the hall and waved over her shoulder. "Love you."

"I love you Caroline." Kate watched her through the door, smiling to herself. _'Love you to bits.'_


	37. Chapter 37

"It's for my girlfriend. Well, partner, I suppose. I don't know. Anyway. I'm going to ask her to marry me." She felt better, having finally said it aloud to someone. She felt elated, actually. But Caroline held her breath in anticipation of the shop woman's response. Waiting and daring her to make a false move.

The attendant's face lit up in joyous conspiracy. "Oh how lovely. And it's a surprise?"

Caroline finally allowed herself to smile, and excitement rushed through her. She stopped fidgeting with her scarf, and rested her palms on the case. She studied the glittering assortment inside it, every light positioned for maximum sparkle.

"It is a surprise. Valentine's Day. That's when I'm going to ask her."

"How absolutely perfect!"

Caroline beamed, but wrinkled her nose. "Not too cheesy? Over the top?"

"Not at all. What woman hasn't had a day dream or two about being swept off her feet on Valentine's Day?"

Caroline nodded. It had crossed her mind, in far younger days. She thought about how it would feel to sweep Kate off her feet, like a fairy tale. Thought about Kate's smile when she was pleased by something thoughtful Caroline had done. The disarming honesty in it and the unexpected joy.

"She's changed my life, really." Caroline's realization was abrupt, forced by circumstance and place. She regarded the brunette with gentle intensity.

"And you can't wait to change hers." The young woman smiled.

Caroline looked up in surprise at the sagacity of the 25-year-old woman behind the counter.

She took in Caroline's expression and laughed. "You sound like every other future groom – and bride – who stands at this counter, ma'am."

"Do I?" Caroline nodded, eyes still on the case, searching for the one she'd seen in the brochure.

"Absolutely. Now do you have an idea what you're looking for?"

"I do. Oval cut solitaire, white gold band. Not a thick band. But not delicate."

"Mmmmmm. Yes. Right over here." The girl walked to the next case and unlocked it from the back. Caroline pointed to the one she'd seen in the booklet, had been thinking about non-stop for the last 24 hours.

The girl pulled out the display, handed the ring to Caroline. "Let me guess. She's just a little bit – non-traditional. A little soft, and a little strong?"

Caroline looked up again in surprise, blue eyes merry and sharp. "So you have done this before, haven't you?"

"Yes." Another smile. "How long have you known? That you want to ask her?"

Caroline was caught off guard again; but was strangely loving every second of the whole experience. Her eyes weren't quite focused as she looked at the woman across the counter. "Months, actually. It's been months." Her eyes focused. "Am I at all original, yet?"

"I'm afraid not. Also usually the case."

Caroline looked back down to the ring in her palm, staring at it and transfixed. It was so light. She thought about Kate, and how strange it was to feel so much fear and doubt over so small a thing. Was it the right one? Would she like it? Would she even say yes? Of course she would. But it was brand new for Caroline, taking a risk like this. Putting herself so far out on a limb.

But this was Kate. Lovely, wonderful, and ultimately and infinitely patient Kate, who'd made Caroline at ease right from the start of everything. Who'd put up with all of Caroline's shit and loved her through all of it, in the end and made her happier than she'd been in as long as she could remember.

The deal was done. Had been as soon as the woman had placed the ring in Caroline's hand. They exchanged answers to logistical questions. Caroline waited as she retrieved the proper size from the back, placed it in a box after Caroline inspected it, and finally in a luxe bag that would of course have to be hidden quite well for the next two weeks.

* * *

 _'Well when am I going to know the bloody right time? God if I make it too big a thing I'll fumble it, I know I will. But obviously it can't be completely unromantic. But I'm not going to get down on my knee, that's all complete rubbish. I suppose you actually can't lose, with champagne, cheese, and chocolates. How do men do this?'_

Caroline stood in the kitchen, staring at the tiny box, flowers, card and chocolate on the counter next to it.

The key turned in the door and Kate rushed in, shaking her umbrella and herself. "It's cats and dogs out there."

"Is it?" Caroline quickly swiped the small box from the counter and palmed it behind her back. No pockets on her bloody skirt. "You're home – early?"

"A bit, yes. Last parent was a no-show. Rather rude, I think, considering the day." Kate scowled and pulled off her coat, and set her umbrella in the stand at the door.

"Beyond rude. Who was it? I'll tack your time on to their tuition bill."

"Not necessary. But thanks for the sentiment."

 _'She's coming this way. Of course. Shit.'_ Caroline turned, blocking her arm with her body, and darted into the living room. "Be right there, Kate. Hold on. I do want to welcome you home properly."

"Hope so." Kate grinned at the flowers and the chocolates. She clutched her hands over her full stomach and peered over at Caroline, who seemed to be fluffing the couch cushions. "Everything alright?" Her face was amused and confused.

Caroline looked up with a confident smile. "Perfectly. Now that you're home."

* * *

 _'Now. It's now. This is it. OK. I should have thought this out more thoroughly.'_ They lay together on the couch, snug and delirious in their own company. Caroline studied Kate and found her courage there.

She dropped her voice, no longer flirting - now shy and serious. "I've got something else for you…."

She reached back behind the couch cushion, flipped open the box and set it on Kate's stomach. The smile that had been plastered to her face all evening widened.

Kate went completely still.

Terrified and elated, Caroline continued on. She felt like laughing. She felt like crying.

"With the baby nearly due and everything. Should – shall – why don't we get married? Properly. Married." Her pitch was higher now and she was stumbling through, drawing out the words and delighting in Kate's surprise. Her excitement beginning to creep in, anticipating Kate's reaction. Most of all anticipating what it would all mean.

Kate began to laugh, not speaking and smiling in disbelief, just sort of nodding.

"What is that?" Caroline laughed as well. She knew the answer of course, could already feel it in Kate's body language and her voice, the pitch of her giggle.

Kate nodded enthusiastically, crying and visibly overcome, and Caroline finally had her real answer. Her anxiety quelled, the most supreme sense of light and joy and relief filling her head to toe.

The ring Caroline had been agonizing over for weeks fell to the floor unnoticed as they reveled together, light, laughing, and happy.

* * *

"It never really was about the ring at all, was it?" Caroline cleared her throat. She sniffed, and smiled blithely over to Flora, who looked up at the sudden break and quiet. It never really did seriously cross Caroline's mind that Kate would say no to the proposal. That Kate would ever say no to her - not really. Not after she'd taken her back. The anxiety had been just a little affected.

Caroline held her arms out for a hug. Flora smiled, closed her book and came over. Caroline grabbed her tight and brought her up for a kiss on the cheek and the needed hug. "That was a good day, Flora. For me and for you Mum – and for you."

Flora folded her knees on Caroline's lap and studied her Mum. Pointed at her necklace, a delicate gold pendant in the cutout shape of a daisy, on a thin gold chain. It had been one of Kate's favorite flowers. Caroline had found the box and the necklace far back in a drawer on Kate's side of the bureau when she'd been looking for something else, only days after her passing. A small envelope had lain next to it with 'Caroline' on the front, but nothing written inside on the card yet.

"Yep. From mummy Kate. You can wear it when you're old enough. She'd like that." Caroline glanced down at the matching cuff links she wore, a gift from Eleanor months ago on her birthday.

Flora smiled up, rich brown eyes kind and gentle and inquiring, just like Kate's. It made Caroline glow, no matter what else was happening.

She picked Flora up and set her down. Closed the folder on her desk with all the engagement ring brochures still in it and replaced it in the cabinet. It was time to be done for the day.

She looked back down to Flora, who was awaiting further instruction. She took her hand and then grabbed her keys.

"I think it's time for ice cream. I think your Gran and Alan might be up for joining us. What do you say?" Caroline looked down and Flora nodded back up to her, eyes wide.


	38. Chapter 38

"Well of course, Caroline. If that's how you want it. Be happy to look after Flora, if, you know, it came to that. If you or Greg couldn't." Gillian smiled, a little surprised and pleased. "Didn't know you thought that much of us."

Flora and Calamity were playing an elaborate game of make believe on the rug in front of them that neither Caroline nor Gillian really grasped. Calamity was busy instructing Flora on truck, block, and doll placement, who on occasion injected "Okay" or "No. Here." But for the most part she just smiled at her cousin, awaiting direction.

"You're family, Gillian. I mean, it's not the likely scenario, but if something were to happen to me and to Greg, well it would be foolish not to have something in place. I learned that the hard way – with Kate." Caroline quickly raised her mug up as Calamity came bounding over with an offered toy and crashed, smiling, into her knees where she sat on the couch. Caroline took it and smiled. "Thank you dear."

"Welcome, aunt Car-o-line." Her pronunciation was slow and deliberate. She frowned, concentrating on the articulation. Calamity was pleased with herself, and with Caroline and her gracious acceptance. She turned her attention back to Flora, who had taken in the exchange. As Calamity toddled back toward the rug where Flora sat, Flora stood with her own toy in hand and ran toward Caroline, waving it over her head and eager to participate in this new gifting ritual.

"Thank you, my darling." Caroline took the large wooden building block and held it in her lap, next to the doll Calamity had offered.

"Yep." Flora nodded briskly and crinkled her nose in a smile.

"She's the spitting image you of, sometimes." Gillian inclined her head at Flora and gestured with her mug. "Can see your thumbprints all over her."

Caroline smiled over to Gillian in an almost carbon copy of Flora's expression.

"There it is." Gillian laughed and sat back on the couch. "So it's none a my business really, and I can see how it's a bit – early – for things. Don't know if you think it's any of 'hers, either. But how's this new legal arrangement going over with Eleanor?"

"I don't know. Alright, I suppose. I've mentioned it to her. Formalizing Greg with parental responsibility and updating my will. She told me it was the smart thing to do. Didn't really go on about it." _'Was a bit quiet.'_ Caroline had brought it up last month after she'd gotten home from New York. Eleanor had been supportive, and encouraging. But circumspect.

"Ya." Gillian nodded. "That – all - going all right? Eleanor?"

Caroline smiled softly. "It is. It's hard, her being gone like this. But I love her. I really do."

"Well I know that look. You're hopeless for 'her, I can see that clear 'enough."

"I suppose I am."

"Good for you. You deserve to be happy." Gillian sat forward again and grinned. "You've come a long way from beating yourself up over 'Eleanor fucking Strathclyde.'

"Yes I have, haven't I?" Caroline laughed along, remembering sitting right on this couch with Gillian, a cold winter night, her fair share of wine, a good fire and reluctantly warm thoughts about Eleanor. Her first real thoughts about Eleanor. "And I do deserve to be happy."

Gillian stood. "More hot water?" She kneeled to pick up Caroline's mug.

"Yep. Thanks."

"Ya." Gillian walked into the kitchen. Caroline sat quietly watching Calamity and Flora. Small disputes were continually arising, but they'd managed to keep working them out. _'Much easier at that age, when you're fighting over Barbies. Doesn't seem like it though. Problems always seem difficult. Until they're solved.'_

Gillian raised her voice from the other room. "Speaking of happy things, 'have you heard from John since he got knicked?"

"Thankfully, I have not. I got a check in the post for the bail. I think he's still pending a court appearance." Caroline frowned and shook her head.

"Eh. Couldn't have 'happened to a nicer bloke." Gillian returned and set Caroline's mug on the table. "Added another bag. Was looking thin."

"Ta." Caroline reached to pick it up. "Perhaps he'll actually learn some sort of lesson, this time."

"You think?" Gillian sat back down.

"Nooooo." Caroline frowned and shook her head vigorously.

They sipped on the hot tea, watched the girls playing. Occasionally Flora would look up and over to Caroline, hold up a toy and name it along with the color. Caroline would narrow or widen her eyes and smile or nod in approval or offer a thumbs up.

"How's Celia doing?"

A brisk nod in response from Caroline. "Good. She's good. Still – em – forgetful? Right? I mean I'm sure you've noticed. But I don't think things have – progressed." She looked away from Gillian and out the window, to the rolling green hills in the distance.

"Ya. Kinda what I thought."

"She's a follow up appointment Thursday. Day after we all see the solicitor and the judge, in fact. You know, to set things with Greg."

Gillian held her mug in both hands. "It feels weird to ask her about her health. And Dad just looks stricken when I mention it. So sorry if I'm prying,"

"You're not prying Gillian. It's sweet. I'd think you a real jerk if you didn't."

"You think I'm a jerk anyway."

"Only sometimes."

* * *

"How's London today?" Caroline tossed a dishtowel over her shoulder, phone crooked in her other shoulder and turning over a pancake in the fry pan as Flora watched her intently.

"Splendid. It's a lovely morning in the city. Nice breeze and the smog has cleared out." Eleanor's phone was crooked on her shoulder as she walked toward the towering glass office building, bag at her elbow and tea in the opposite hand.

"Did you manage to connect with Lily last night? How is she?"

"Over the moon. She's twice as in love with Edinburgh and Scotland as she ever was, and all she does is play piano all day. She couldn't be happier." Eleanor beamed. A passerby on the sidewalk caught it and returned the smile just for the sake of it.

"I'm glad the program's working out."

"Oh I am as well. But I miss her and June terribly. It's a difficult feeling, isn't it? Having them out in the world, beyond the scope of your protection."

"It is. But you get used to it. It's better if they're happy." Caroline fidgeted with the dishtowel on her shoulder.

Eleanor paused at an intersection. "It's the big day with Greg and Flora. How are you?"

Caroline smiled. She still enjoyed the sound of her name spoken in Eleanor's smooth alto voice. She didn't mind 'darling,' either, coming from Eleanor. But they hadn't yet stopped calling each other by their first name on occasion, that was just fine.

"Good. I'm good. Fine actually. It's the right thing to do. And I'm happy. I am."

Eleanor smirked, knowing Caroline well enough to hear it when she'd accepted something in her mind but not yet fully in her heart. "It's absolutely the right thing." Eleanor's grin faded and her brow wrinkled. "I'm sorry I can't be there."

"It's just papers. A quick stop. Nothing to it." Caroline's expression was neutral and she flipped off the burner. "Not a big deal."

"Still. I would have preferred it. You and Flora both mean a lot to me."

"I know that. That's what counts, I suppose." Caroline smiled and pulled Flora's plate over closer to the stove. She ran the spatula down the pan and plated the pancake. As Flora approached age three the variety of acceptable foods continued to dwindle. Fortunately the list had stayed pretty much in the acceptably nutritious zone.

"In any case, we can celebrate Saturday morning over brunch. I'm making waffles. A giant pile of them, covered in strawberries and whipped cream."

"Now you're speaking Flora's language." Caroline laid a hand on Flora's head. She was doing well with a fork now, and tucking right in. Caroline looked out the kitchen window to the green hedges swaying in the morning breeze. "What time will you be home Friday night?"

"I've had to schedule a late meeting with a distributor in from Munich. But I should be done and on the train by 5 - so around 8?"

"Text me when you leave. Flora and I will come and collect you from the station. It'll end up past her bedtime but I bet she'll go out like a light in the car."

"Fantastic. I'm counting the seconds."

"I know you are."

"I've arrived at the office. Let me know how it goes today?"

"Yep."

"Good luck with it all. Love you, Caroline."

"Love you back." Caroline clicked off and set down her mobile. She put the remaining pancake on to her own plate and sat down at the counter next to Flora.

* * *

"Your paperwork is all in order. All the documentation is clean and clear enough." The judge looked from Greg to Caroline, and settled on the solicitor between them.

"Yes madam. Both clients are in accord, here. It's all straightforward. Caroline's got clear rights, as outlined by Kate McKenzie in the most recent and extant version of her will. Caroline is in agreement that parental responsibility should also be granted to Greg Abbott, and he's more than willing to accept it. Both parents have been express in their wishes."

Greg smiled over to Caroline, who returned it. Her eyes were shining brightly.

The judge took notice. "Ms. McKenzie Dawson, are you quite sure this is what you want? This is a serious matter. It's a big step and a decision you don't want to have ambiguity about."

"Oh yes. I am, madam." Caroline sniffed and smiled. "It's just all a little emotional, isn't it?"

"Yes it is. You're not the first parent to feel overwhelmed by it." The judge smiled kindly. In small ways she reminded Caroline of Ginika. Likely the sharp wisdom in her eyes.

"Well then. Let's have both parents sign."

Caroline took Flora from her lap and handed her to Celia on her right, and came to stand next to Greg at the large oak desk.

Celia and Alan exchanged glances over Flora; Alan's confident and Celia smiling but as always, skeptical. Alan squeezed her hand and gave her an encouraging nod. Celia's skeptical look faded; she pulled Flora a little closer and smiled back.

Caroline stared at the two sets of identical papers; a pen next to each. She picked up the one directly in front of her, signed and dated. Greg did the same. They looked up and over at each other, smiling and awkward. Caroline made to change places with Greg, who didn't move, and they gently bumped into each other.

They laughed, a tight smile from Caroline and a grin from Greg.

"Let's just swap papers." Greg turned to the desk and switched the sets of documents.

"Good call." Caroline sniffed again, bent, and signed the final documents. She laid the pen gently atop the desk next to them.

Greg held out his hand to Caroline.

"Don't be stupid." Caroline hugged him.

"Right." Greg hugged her back. He turned to Jenny and gave a goofy grin and two thumbs up. She smiled back indulgently and returned the gesture.

* * *

"Well you look properly handsome, Greg. What with the suit and the haircut. Not at all the ruffian who showed up on the doorstep in the middle of the night two years ago."

"It's all Jenny's doing. And Flora's." Greg was all smiles, grins, and good humor, even more so than usual. He took a sip from the pint in front of him and held it up to Celia. "Thanks though."

"Don't let it go to your head. You're Flora's dad now, you know. Not one of your super heroes."

"Greg's always been Flora's dad, Mum." Caroline remonstrated Celia with a gentle look.

"I suppose."

Alan laid a hand over Celia's and held it gently. "He certainly has. And doing a good job of it, I say."

Caroline took a bite of her salad and smiled over at Greg, who had the good sense to look humble.

"I do have to thank you, Caroline, for giving me a chance. You didn't have to, but you did, and it's been grand. A real adventure of the best kind." Greg met her eyes over the table, face as serious as he could make it on such a happy occasion.

"Truly. Take it from a relative newcomer. Greg's a better man these days." Jenny leaned into him and smiled earnestly at Caroline.

"Hmm. I'll agree with that." It was hard not to think of him like a little brother. Sometimes she was equally annoyed and equally fond of him. But her ambiguity about sticking with him had long worn off.

"Ice cream time?" Flora looked hopefully at Caroline.

Caroline looked over to Flora's plate. "Finish your chicken, and your apples. Then yes."

Flora looked back with dark eyes full of challenge. "Just chicken?"

"It's not a negotiation, Flora." Blue eyes and black eyes clashed. Mum prevailed, but Flora made a go of it and held Caroline's stern gaze for a good five seconds.

"Okay Mummy."

"Okay."

Celia smiled warmly at both her girls. "You were lucky to have boys, Caroline. Now you're getting a bit of the picture, what it was like trying to manage you growing up."

"Mmmmm. I hope you don't expect empathy from me."

"Wait until she's twelve. Then you'll have empathy for your dear old mum coming out your ears."

"True enough, love. I remember Gillian growing up. Came to her stubborn nature by Eileen. Those two could shake mountains when they got up to it." Alan favored Flora with twinkling eyes.

"I don't doubt that." Caroline looked over to Alan with an impressed expression.

"Well it's a celebration we're here for, so let's have a proper toast." Alan held up his pint and the table joined him. "To family. Wherever we find it. Always a blessing."


	39. Chapter 39

"Good morning, Beth."

Emma rose from the low planter wall where she'd been sitting, waiting in the cool early morning shadows.

"Hello - ma'am." Beth stopped mid-stride.

"Oh anything but ma'am - please." Emma fixed her with a flattering and disapproving smile. "Emma will do nicely."

"Ummm, yes - Emma." Eleanor's assistant clutched her work bag with one arm, close to her, and her Starbucks cup in the other hand, awkwardly between her waist and her shoulders. "You're a friend of Ms. Strathclyde's?"

"I am. Heart-broken ex-wife, actually. And I have a question for you."

"Ummm. Okay." The vapid girl looked at the door of the office building housing Anadyne, just a few meters away.

"There's no need to be nervous. Just a simple question, an easy favor." She offered Beth nothing but gentle assurance. "You see Ms. Strathclyde and I were married. And we've had a falling out that I would most desperately like to patch up. And now that she's in London - " Emma looked, for all intents and purposes, quite sincerely despondent to the untrained eye. "You can understand that, of course. Wanting desperately and more than anything in the world to reunite with a long-lost love?"

"Ummmm. I suppose." Beth frowned, but did not turn to go.

"Yes. Of course you can. You have the heart of a true romantic. I can tell just by looking at you." Emma gave a dazzling smile, full of knowing and understanding and flattery. "You must have someone who got away. Or – I actually imagine a hapless pack of handsome boys thinking about you as the one who got away."

The girl smiled back and shifted her posture. She lowered her coffee cup from midair and let her bag fall to the bend of her elbow. "Sure. I can understand that. It's kind of sweet."

"Good. So you'll help me. That's wonderful of you. Just wonderful." She placed a hand on Beth's arm, just for a second before appearing to realize that her excitement had gotten the better of her. She stepped back and looked at the ground shyly before looking up, face covered in gratitude.

"It would be perfect if you could text me when Eleanor goes out for lunch over the next few days? Just anything you happen to gather, when she leaves and if she mentions a particular spot?"

"Well." Beth frowned again.

"If it's no bother. It's just that - my own office isn't far. But my boss, well, he's a real stickler about time. One minute late in the morning, after lunch and he – well I'll just never hear the end of it. And I couldn't stand – I just can't lose my position, just because I was hanging around here like a silly schoolgirl."

Beth smiled again, the conspiracy of equals sealed. "I'm sure I can help in some way."

"Of course you can." She covered her in a look of absolute approval. "Can I give you my number?"

"Sure." Beth set down her coffee and her bag, rummaged until she found her phone, and entered Emma's information.

"Just between us, right Beth?" Emma's look was all about innocence and white lies. "You know Eleanor. Ms. Strathclyde. I just love her to pieces but she's got a hard shell. Can't stand to have someone play the lovesick puppy in front of her."

Beth was back at ease. "I can totally imagine." She bent and picked up her bag and coffee again, and looked back at Emma as she started toward to door, gave a wave of her coffee cup. "Good luck!"

"Oh I'll need it. Thank you dear!"

Emma turned and smirked. _'That was stupidly easy.'_

* * *

Eleanor was on her mobile, texting with Lily in Scotland. Typically she hated staring at a screen while walking. There was so much more in life to take in, out in the wider world. But the business district was unremarkable to her after the initial tour of duty. She never saw Emma coming.

She felt someone bump into her, equally still absorbed in their mobile and equally surprised. She looked up with an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry."

It was Emma she'd run into, and the smile died on her lips. "What are you doing here?" She frowned.

"It's London, darling. I live here."

"Yes. Fine. But what are you doing here? Your office is more than a kilometer away."

"Just grabbing lunch. I had a deposition for a client nearby and thought I'd stop by the Pret. Judging by your casual attire, I suppose you're on the same errand. We can go together." Emma hooked her arm into Eleanor's and nudged her forward back into the flow of business people and across the street.

"Trousers do not automatically count as casual attire, Emma."

"Oh no. But that hideous scarf does. The material is completely pedestrian. You should know better than to partner it with that silk blouse. What's become of you in the rural wilds of North Yorkshire?"

Eleanor frowned. She'd borrowed the scarf – long term – from Caroline. Mostly because it had reminded her of Caroline and she liked wearing it.

Emma caught the frown and quickly delivered the healing balm of approval before Eleanor had a chance to respond. "I'd never utter anything negative about the trousers. They look positively smashing on you. They always have."

Eleanor remained silent, simmering, and they walked on.

* * *

"So – Edinburgh and Exeter – you must miss the girls terribly."

They stood waiting for their salads, Emma typically standing closer than Eleanor preferred. She still wore the same perfume. Eleanor remembered the smell of it and the emotional memories it provoked, almost physically. She now wished she'd just picked something from the case and fled. But she hated running from Emma. Hated insinuating that the woman had any power at all over her, whether attractive or more accurately, repellent. Admitting that Emma stirred any emotions at all. Which as Eleanor was quickly discovering, here one on one with her, no family or friends or party or dinner or occasion to distract - that she still did.

"I really wish mother could learn to be more taciturn." _I must speak with Dad about what he shares with her.'_

"Oh don't blame Margaret dear. I do keep my eye out. Make sure to stay apprised and ask the right questions."

Eleanor finally turned her head to make eye contact and looked at Emma sharply. "Once a year, Emma. That's all you get. Mother's birthday brunch. Never one on one with me or with them. I don't trust you."

Emma frowned impishly. "You don't trust me, or you don't trust yourself?"

Eleanor ignored her. "That was the arrangement. You said the girls were mine, when you left. And there's no statute of limitations on that deal. We've established a narrative for them that's honest enough and it works. And it allows them to see you as simply negligent – to see that it's all about me – and nothing to do with them. There will be no great attempt at reconciliation from you now that they're older."

Emma raised her hand and looked down in apology. "June and Lily. Your great atonement. Yours, Eleanor. To love and protect as you see fit. I'd never deny you that. After – everything. And you've done a fine job. I knew you would." She paused. "But that's not conversation for the work day. How are you getting on at the flat? Is it terribly lonely and quiet after a full house all these years?"

"I'm just fine." Eleanor changed tactics and clammed up. She knew it frustrated Emma.

It worked. Emma crossed her arms and pouted. "How is Caroline getting on – and the two of you with this trial separation?"

"Just fine. My month in London is not a trial separation."

"So you're back and forth for now? Until Lily heads to University? One foot here and one foot there?"

Eleanor stayed quiet for a moment and held herself in check. She was reminded again of how deadly accurate Emma's aim could be. She wanted reaction. She wanted Eleanor to feel something, anything. It was her way in. "I won't discuss Caroline with you."

"I don't mean to poke a stick."

"You do. And it's always been one of your most regrettable characteristics."

"You wound me, Ellie." Emma smiled playfully. "And I have my redeeming qualities. You know that. Very well."

Their order was called. Emma stepped forward quickly and grabbed both their bags.

Eleanor turned and headed directly to the door, went through and did not wait for Emma.

They stood on the hot August pavement, considering each other, Eleanor's arms crossed over her chest. Emma smiled and turned to walk toward Eleanor's office. "I've plenty of time. Are you sure you don't want to stop and have lunch together, al fresco? It's a gorgeous day."

"I'm sure."

Eleanor lengthened her stride to catch up with Emma who had walked on, holding her lunch hostage. The apparent ransom being the walk back to her office.

Emma hooked her arm through Eleanor's and pulled her close. "How are you faring at work? If there's anyone up for the CEO task, taking Anadyne to the next level, it's you darling. You're the savviest businesswoman I know. Margaret's taught you well, when it comes to making strategic decisions."

"Perhaps. But I've you to thank for any savage cunning I've acquired."

"Is that meant to be a compliment? I accept." Emma looked up admiringly. "In any case. You're bound to excel if you apply yourself. I've no illusions that Anadyne will be your final rung on the ladder, Ellie. You're destined for great things. The top of whatever mountain you want to climb, now that you've embraced your potential."

"If that's meant to be a compliment, I accept." Eleanor's angry resolve was wearing down, and she smirked at her retort. It was easier just to play long.

They slowed and finally paused as they approached Eleanor's office building.

"Have drinks with me in Kensington next week. Your martini bar. It's still there, and the Manhattans are as scrumptious as ever. One is never enough."

"No thank you."

"It's just drinks with an old friend. I don't bite unless you ask." Her expression remained stern, in contrast to the sentiment, and Eleanor wasn't able to adjust quickly. "Next Wednesday after work. I'll come round and collect you."

"We're not old friends, Emma. And the answer is still no."

"Well - think on it. You don't have to decide now." Emma pushed up on to her toes, one hand on Eleanor's waist and one hand on Eleanor's arm, her thumb moving over Eleanor's bicep. She kissed her cheek with exaggerated affection. "I have missed you, Ellie."

Eleanor's eyes fired and she snapped at Emma, tone uncharacteristically sharp as she felt herself losing control of the situation. "I've had enough. Don't call me that. And don't turn up next week."

Emma only handed Eleanor her lunch. Her smile was wicked and wide as she turned and walked away.


	40. Chapter 40

Caroline glanced down at the corner of her computer screen. "Shit."

It was five pm now. She needed to be in the car already and on the way home to Flora, so that Greg could leave to meet Jenny, so that they could catch a train... There was a whole chain of events she was disassembling with her tardiness.

She saved her work and shut down the computer. She quickly folded her glasses over the top button of her shirt, laid her cardigan over her arm, and laid her bag over that. She hunted around for her keys, found them, and turned and dashed to the door into the outer office. Beverley was long gone. As she locked the door to her office, she cursed again. "Damnit." She piled back through the door, back to her desk where she snatched her mobile up. It was buzzing. Celia.

"Hi, Mum. Can't really talk now. What can I do for you?"

"Well that's a nice greeting."

"It's not my very best effort, but I'm afraid I'm really rather up against it here."

"Alright. Alright. There's no need to rub it in, you're a busy woman. We all get that."

Caroline could hear Alan and Harry crowing in the background. Clearly they'd stopped for pints somewhere. She flew down the great inner staircase and across the portico.

"Yes, Mum. Terribly busy. Truly. What can I do for you?"

"I just called to say that we aren't home in time for dinner, love. That's all. That is, we're not coming home. We're staying in Halifax tonight."

"Staying in Ha _li_ fax. Got it. Thanks. Bye bye."

"You don't have to rush me off."

"In fact I _do_. Because I have to call Greg immediately." Caroline sighed and backed up and through the outer doors. They slammed shut behind her. She almost stumbled off of the shallow landing, but caught herself.

"Well alright. Have a good night dear." Celia's tone wasn't as merry as Alan's in the background. They'd had the appointment this week, the follow up with the gerontologist. Scans showed nothing new. But it had been a sobering reminder for Celia, and for Caroline, that something in their lives had changed in a manner completely beyond their control.

Caroline stopped in her tracks. Exhaled, and adjusted her tone. "Yes, that's good. Tomorrow then. Love you. Bye _bye_!"

"Bye then, love."

Caroline clicked off. The Jeep blipped open and she tossed her work bag on to the passenger seat.

The fire alarms in the main building blared to life.

"Oh _blood-y_ hell what is this?" Her mouth set in a thin line and she stared at the building, one hand holding her mobile and one hand on her hip. She pointed accusingly with her mobile at the massive red stone edifice. "You're going to have to wait."

She climbed into the car and shut the door. It was quieter. By a factor of one, perhaps.

"Hello. Yes. Hi Greg, it's me." Caroline blew upward through her thick bangs.

"Hi. Are you on your way?" Greg was curious, of course, she was already fifteen minutes behind where she needed to be. She should be halfway across town at this point. "What's all that noise?

"Right. Yes." Caroline glared at the building. "Nope. I've not left. I've had some trouble here. There's an alarm."

"Oh. Um. Okay. So – " Greg's tone still as good natured as ever, despite the fact that Caroline's lateness now presented a growing problem for his timeline. He was at the house with Flora. Jenny was likely already there to take them to the train station. It was Friday night, and they were off for the weekend to visit her parents in Birmingham. Caroline was supposed to be there now for the Flora hand-off.

"So I need to – we need to…" Caroline tapered off. "I can't just leave." She bent her head, forehead in one hand.

"Sure. Um. Shall we bring Flora to you?"

"Well that won't work at all. Sulgrave Heath is opposite the train station from the house. You'd never _make_ it here and back in time."

"Likely not."

Caroline's mind, practiced at finding solutions, began running a myriad of scenarios. People, places, and options.

"I've an idea, Greg. I'll call you back in two minutes. How much time have you got, still?"

"Well I think if we leave in the next ten or so, we'll be okay."

"Alright. I don't like this, but I'm stuck here at least until the fire people turn up. I'll call you right back."

"Sounds good."

Caroline clicked off again, glowering up at the clanging building. She quickly dialed.

"Jane. _Hi._ It's me."

"Hey Caroline. What's up?"

"Are you at work?"

"An hour to go. Staring at the clock as we speak. How's your Friday night? Big plans with Eleanor?"

Caroline could practically see Jane's wagging eyebrows on the other end of the line. _Shit._ Eleanor. She'd deal with that later. "Right now, Friday night is not off to a good start."

"Sorry to hear that. Can I help? And why are you standing under a fire alarm?"

"As a matter of fact, you _can_ help. The alarm's why I'm calling. I'm at the school, and it's gone off. I'm currently waiting for reinforcements." Caroline could now hear the approaching sirens in the distance.

"Hey are you alright?" Jane's tone switched to that sounded like she was ready to ride.

"Yes quite. I'm fine. But listen, I need a very, very large favor. Can Greg and Jenny drop Flora by your station? They have to catch a train. I know it's ridiculous, but it's right on their way and I'm in a real jam."

"I don't see why not. I haven't seen her in weeks. Boys'll love her. I think Lawrence is out on patrol with Sam, but he's due back sometime soon."

"I won't be long. Hopefully they'll figure out what the hell is going on and I can be off directly." Caroline looked out again. No smoke. It hadn't crossed her mind that the building might actually be on fire. _'Oh dear Jesus I hope not.'_

"Don't worry. I'll look after her. Like I said, I've got another hour on shift. Meaningless paper shuffling. If it comes to it, I can meet you at your place."

"You are my hero."

"That's old news Caroline. Good luck."

"Right."

The sirens were much closer now. She hurriedly called Greg, and he picked up promptly.

"Okay it's set with Jane. You can drop Flora with at her station, it's directly on your way. You know which one?"

He took a second to catch up with Caroline's thought process. "Yes. Unconventional, but I like it. You're a real problem solver, aren't you?" He chuckled.

"Yep. Ripped from the pages of your comics." Lights and sirens came pulling through the main drive. "I'm so sorry for this Greg. And I've got to go now."

"Never a dull moment. Good for us. I'll text you as we get on with the plan."

"Good. Thank you. Bye." She clicked off and opened the car door. The unmuffled sound of the alarm was deafening. _'Oh just - bloody hell.'_ She pulled at her hair clip that had fallen most of the way out. She shook her head, pulled back her hair, and put it up again. She straightened her shoulders and started walking. Stalking, really, toward the nearest fire engine, her face a dark black cloudy thunderstorm.

* * *

In the end it took almost three hours to wind things down. The fire department had begun hunting, and thirty minutes in it was clear it was not going to be a quick fix. It wasn't a fire, but rather a broken hot water pipe running directly on to the sensor. Which meant that a plumber was needed, and immediately. Another hour of Caroline waiting for the plumber after the fire crew had shut down the mainline, and then another hour while the problem with the pipe was repaired, tested, and declared fit for service. The damage to the building itself was another matter entirely. She headed briefly to her office, and from there transferred the remaining mess over to Beverley to secure the proper contractors to finish the job tomorrow.

She'd been texting Jane with updates, who was now with Flora at the house, and Zoe as well, who apparently thought the whole thing as fun as an unexpected snow day. Caroline had asked Greg to leave the patio door open and apparently they were all now making themselves right at home. Jane had even texted a picture of one of Caroline's prized wine bottles next to a corkscrew at one point. Having become adept at emoji use, Caroline had expressed visually her extreme dissatisfaction.

It was just after eight and the school was blessedly quiet. She was sprawled in her office chair, heels off and hands and legs splayed, eyes closed.

Her mobile buzzed on her desk and her eyes flew open. " _Shit._ Eleanor."

She sat up and looked over the message.

 _'Just pulling in to Harrogate.'_

 _'Okay. Be there in 20. Been held up.'_

 _'No problem. Take your time. Be excited to see you. You don't even know. Love you.'_

 _'Yep. Thanks. Love you back.'_

Caroline set her mobile back down. She sat back again, took a deep breath in and exhaled. "Right."

She stood, collected herself and her things a little more deliberately than she had three hours ago. On her way through her office door she crossed her fingers.

* * *

Eleanor beamed as she saw Caroline's Jeep appear in the pickup lane. Most of the pedestrian traffic from the station had subsided. It was getting late, getting dark, and she was exhausted. She'd started in London at six am and been in meetings almost the whole time before catching the train and catching her breath. She'd been on the ropes all day, answering some tough questions. But she hoped it would have a real payoff down the line. She stood and waved as Caroline pulled forward.

She trotted around to the passenger side, poured herself in, work bag and all. She leaned back in the seat and turned her head to Caroline with a bright smile.

Caroline's disheveled appearance and posture mirrored her own, and her smile in return was genuine, but far from energetic.

"We look like we've been through the wars." Eleanor pushed her bag down to her feet and looked back over to Caroline. She started to lean toward her -

"And what do you mean by that?" Caroline's tone was sharp and she frowned.

Eleanor plunged through her own fatigue and into her deep reservoir of charm. One more tough win to pull off for the day. She reinforced her wide smile. "I mean that I look a proper mess. And you look tough, tested, and ready to win the next battle, whatever it may be. But hopefully not with me."

She held Caroline's feisty blue eyes until they calmed, and Caroline smiled back at her. "You are a silver tongued devil." She gave Eleanor an obvious full visual assessment. "You don't look a mess at all."

"Thank you. That's more like it. And I only use my devilish powers for good."

"Lucky for me and for the world." Caroline sighed. "I'm sorry. It's been more than a long week."

"Don't apologize. There's no need. I'm just glad to see you." Eleanor shifted around in her seat and crossed her arms, arched her brow. "But you've yet to greet me properly."

Caroline narrowed her eyes, and this time Eleanor wasn't disappointed with her response.

* * *

They filed through the front door, Eleanor chasing at Caroline's heels and squeezing her playfully on the hips from behind. Caroline whirled and gave her a sharp look. Eleanor whipped her hands behind her back and smiled innocently, playfully. Caroline returned it, dropped her work bag, and went directly through to the kitchen. Eleanor waved at Jane and Zoe as she went upstairs to change. Despite reassurances she didn't look that way, she felt like an old coat tossed out of a car and rumpled on the side of the road.

She returned downstairs, face washed, hair up, and pajamas on - feeling much more fully human. She followed the sound of hushed voices into the kitchen. She stopped, obscured just behind the threshold in the hallway.

Caroline was leaning against the counter holding a sacked-out Flora over her shoulder, Zoe and Jane on either side of her. Zoe was smiling over at Jane, who was exchanging an amused look with Caroline about whatever had just been said. They were all murmuring quietly in the warm glow of the kitchen lights.

Eleanor felt a small twist in her stomach and an unpleasant buzz in her fingers and toes. _'This is what her life looks like while I'm gone.'_


	41. Chapter 41

Dawn was just coming up in the softest gray. The house stretched and woke and settled around them, only occasionally disrupting the intense silence. Carefully poised on one hand and staring down at Caroline, Eleanor held her challenging gaze with a smile. She could only just hear Caroline's whispers, and responded with the faintest of her own. "Why of course I've missed you. Even since last night."

"That's – um, good."

"But I hear you saying that I could do a more thorough job of showing you?"

"Mmmmm…." Caroline's breath caught in her throat, and she exhaled in a shocked laugh. "Yes. Fine. I take it back." She took another deep breath. "Don't stop."

"That's better. All the way around, in fact." Eleanor pivoted again, just a little. Just a little more, a little closer to the woman she had missed terribly. "Are we done talking, then?"

"Please." Caroline bit her lip and smiled back.

* * *

Not an hour later, she smiled down at her sacked-out girlfriend doing a proper Eleanor imitation and sprawled diagonally across the bed. She kissed her freckled shoulder and slipped under her arm and away to the en suite.

She bent and ducked her head into the sink, splashed cold water over her face and reached for a towel on the vanity. She evaluated herself in the mirror, closely focused and critical. Noticing the newest shallow furrow on her forehead, next to one much deeper that had first appeared when she was only thirty-something. She bent further forward toward the mirror. She held a finger up to right eyebrow and examined a freckle that had come in recently. New, and therefore suspicious. It hadn't seemed to have changed since appearing.

Eleanor lengthened her gaze over her shoulder to watch Caroline as she slept. She smiled. She reset her focus and turned up her chin, and that one damn patch that needed constant attention. She opened the cabinet and grabbed the tweezers, quickly dispatched of stray hairs near her jawline, and then touched up her eyebrows for good measure.

As she stared, she pondered and puzzled. Again her gaze returned to Caroline. How to keep her happy. How to protect what they'd built. More importantly, how to continue building something together. Caroline, whom she'd never expected. Caroline who had tipped the balance of everything and brought emotion pouring down all over Eleanor, all over again. The shape of their future was grey and undefined.

At the same time, the mists of the past were swirling and uncertain of their own place as the present disturbed their rest. Feelings that had long been still, quiet and at peace under the placid surface of a single life, a life focused on her career and the girls, were stirring. Emma had begun chucking rocks into the pool of memory, and recollections of events and emotions best left in repose had begun to yawn and stretch, reassembling themselves from tiny scattered pieces to examine their surroundings and decide if they were being called forward.

It'd been ten years since Emma, and so many more since everything else. It'd been long enough. There was nothing left of that life. There was nothing left in of that girl she'd been - at all. Eleanor probed her own deep brown eyes, certain and uncertain, and listened to the past.

 _"Oh but Ellie dear. Don't forget. Time is meaningless for us - whether we're together or apart. Seconds. Days. Years. They're all the same when something lasts forever. If you can love someone the way I love you."_

She remembered how it felt when Emma had looked right into her wanting brown eyes and spoken those words for the first time, after she'd finished her PhD and moved to London to be closer to Emma. Three years gone by with them apart, and her compulsion for Emma as strong as ever. When she'd whispered it, Emma had been closer to Eleanor that she was to the mirror right now. She'd looked right into her, pleading with deep green eyes. To finally say exactly what Eleanor had daily wished for her to say for almost six years at that point.

She also remembered how it felt when Emma had said that same thing to her when they spoke their wedding vows, promising everything to each other. Then repeated it whenever it was just the right time over the next eight years - when Eleanor was happy with her, when Eleanor was angry with her.

And the last time she'd said it to her. How Eleanor had felt the words rip through her, rather than bind her. The cloistered, muggy summer city air. Standing on the shimmering pavement under the towering London skyline, the glittering glass facades of the buildings gazing down on them as she'd left Emma's office for the final time. Emma walking out the doors after her to grab her arm and turn Eleanor to face her, to make her look at her, right at her, as she spoke. There had been the ghost of that same first love in Emma's eyes. But this time her words were not delivered as a plea, but as a prognostication. A promise.

 _"If you want a clean break, Ellie - and you want me to just walk away - then that's what I'll do. I'll do anything you ask, as long as it's in my power. But I won't lie to you about who I am, and how I'm weak, when it comes to women. If I can't be the woman you want me to be, fine. Go try and be the woman you want to be - without me. But don't think this is what I want. If it's what you want, after fourteen years, Eleanor, I'll let you throw it all away._

 _But don't lie to yourself either. Don't lie and believe I'm not strong for you, haven't been strong for you, even when I am weak - or rather - when you've been weak. And don't lie to yourself and believe I don't love you, because you know I do. That I would stay with you. This is your choice, not mine. My love lasts forever, Eleanor. I'll live my life. I'll walk away now, because this is all just a matter of time. I know you better than anyone, known you longer than anyone but your own family. I'll wait for you, because you'll be back. And I won't marry again, unless it's to you."_

So Emma had walked away from the marriage, and Eleanor had run away from London. After a decade and a half of Emma, it was the only choice that would keep her true to herself, to the girls. And the girls had been what mattered. They'd been the whole point of leaving. The whole point of everything. And they'd been everything Eleanor had learned about real love. It had all worked out perfectly.

She'd returned as close to home as she dared to nurse her broken heart, settled just outside the shadow of Margaret's condemnation. _"Marriage isn't about fidelity dear. It's about commitment. You made a commitment before God and family, and you've broken it. Whatever the reasons, however compelling they may be, you failed to live up to your commitment."_

She and Emma had not included vows of fidelity during the wedding ceremony. Even then, she had known that her wife's eye tended to wander. But Eleanor had never strayed, and Emma had never been… obvious. But sharing Emma had cut her, deeply. She'd had love, with a price tag attached. But did love ever come without a price?

After the divorce, she'd decided she'd rather not find out the answer to that question. Harrogate had been a small town and a large opportunity. Harrogate had been perfect. Quiet. Still. Easy. Now it wasn't anymore. And now there was London. And the flat. And Emma who wouldn't, and never had, taken no for an answer. And all of the old weaknesses coming back to haunt her.

 _"She promised you everything, and she gave you nothing. In fact she took from you. That's the real truth of it. So stop. Now."_ Present Eleanor stepped up and gave past Eleanor a good hard shove. _"Stop it."_

She realized she hadn't been looking at anything at all, standing at the mirror, unfocused and drifting. She blinked back to reality and smiled at herself reflexively. Another glance back to Caroline. _"She's said she loves you. She's said she wants to build a life together. She's not going anywhere."_

Again she heard from Emma, never one to quit easily -

 _"Oh but – you- are, Ellie, darling, aren't you? You're going somewhere. And will she still love you then? Regardless of time and place? Because I've already proven I can. You've got conditions for me, but I've none for you. Are you sure you don't see that hesitation coming back again, in her eyes? Does she look at you the same way now as she did three months ago - before you left her for London? Has push finally come to shove, now that it's not all just first dates and fun, and the choices have consequences? It was easy to deal with Caroline's insecurities. But can you deal with your own? Dare I ask, my love - was this leaving her your plan all along?"_

 _"Shut up."_

Another forceful shove from her present self, and Eleanor turned from the mirror. She walked back into the bedroom. She leaned down again to kiss Caroline, who stirred.

"Keep sleeping. I've got Flora. We'll start the waffles." She smiled brightly, throwing off the cobwebs and reasserting herself in the present, re-centering as she reminded herself who Caroline was. Who she was, now. A woman who'd earned the right to be confident in herself and in her life.

Caroline smiled through closed eyes. "Okay."

* * *

"El El El El!" Flora jumped out of bed, where she'd clearly been up for a few minutes, just waiting for Caroline to appear and start her day.

Eleanor put a finger to her lips.

Flora still jumped up and down, but now shout-whispered Eleanor's nickname in her quietest excited-toddler 'mummy's still sleeping' voice.

"The one and only." Eleanor scooped her up and held her upside down by her ankles behind her head. "Flora would you like waffles for breakfast?" Eleanor turned a 360. "Wait – Flora – where are you? You were just here."

Flora pummeled Eleanor's back. "Here here."

"Where?" Eleanor peered over to the bed and to the closet. "I'm sorry but I've gone and lost you."

"Heeeeere. El. Here." Flora waved her arms and legs.

Eleanor swung her around front and set her down into a handstand. Flora rolled out and stood.

"OH! There you are!" Eleanor smiled and Flora smiled back. "So, as I was asking before you disappeared, would you like waffles for breakfast?"

"Maybe." Flora crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.

"Oh. Tough sell. Just like your mum, huh?"

"Yep." Flora smiled, looking over Eleanor's shoulder, and nodded.

"Mmmmm. All right little one. Would strawberries make a difference? And whipped cream?" Eleanor put on a very persuasive face.

Flora was of course not nearly as tough a sell as her mum. She cracked instantly, and her eyes lit up and grew wide. She gave a little run-dance in place. "Yes yes yes yes!"

"Good. Let's go and get started, but let's be quiet. I bet we can have them all done but the time mum's up. She's down for the count. I hear you both had a rather big week, and I think we should let her sleep in?"

Flora put a finger to her lips. "Shhhhhhh."

Eleanor mimicked the gesture. "Shhhhhhh."

Flora smiled and shook her head.

Eleanor frowned.

Flora made the gesture again and pointed over her shoulder.

She turned around to find Caroline leaning on the door frame, arms crossed, smiling and pointing to Flora. "You gave me away!"

Flora shook her head solemnly.

Eleanor placed her hand on her hips. "You're supposed to be sleeping."

"I can't very well sleep if I have to worry about you losing track of my daughter in my own house."

"I'm sorry if you were eavesdropping. But we can't help our loud enthusiasm for breakfast." Eleanor took Flora's hand and led her out, scowling in good humor at Caroline. "And I can't possibly deal with both of you at once. Flora, let's go make waffles."

"Yes yes yes."

Eleanor ignored Caroline in a most exaggerated manner, and Flora copied her. She stepped around her mum and continued down the hallway.


	42. Chapter 42

Breakfast was up in short order. Eleanor seized the opportunity for a neutral setting, third party presence, and Caroline's existing good humor to bring up the very subject she most hated to interject into the day.

"In the spirit of full disclosure, I ran into Emma this week while I was out fetching lunch."

Caroline looked over from cutting another section of Flora's waffle, and her eyes were coldly suspicious. She returned her attention to the waffles. "Okay."

Eleanor wasn't sure if she preferred Caroline's eye contact of not in this situation. Nor whether the dissatisfaction in Caroline's tone was aimed at her or Emma.

"We ran into each other on the street. Under protest she walked with me to and from to pick up a salad. That was the full extent of it."

"O-kay." Caroline drew out the short response. She was now looking down at her own waffle, fork and knife in either hand and resting on the plate.

Eleanor waited for her to look up, unsure how to continue. Unsure whether this was going to become a thing. It was still unclear to Eleanor the exact source - her or Emma, or if she were going to get the worst of things either way.

Caroline finally did look up, and her expression wasn't promising. This was going to be a thing. "She's rather like a bad penny, isn't she?"

"In more ways than one." Eleanor set down her silverware and sat back. She wanted to, but avoided crossing her arms. She placed her hands in her lap.

Caroline remained quiet. She dabbed her napkin in her water, turned to Flora, and swiped at a smudge of jam that had landed on her fat cheek. She looked back at Eleanor. "Well you've gone to the trouble of bringing it up, so there must be something more to it."

"I don't know that there is. But I didn't mention it when she brought tea around, and I see now that that was a mistake."

"A mistake to not say anything because there was more to it, or a mistake because Emma brought it up to me herself and you looked like you'd intentionally lied to me by omission?"

Caroline's tone was frustratingly inscrutable, as was her expression. She wasn't happy. She wasn't yet angry, but she was clearly frustrated. Eleanor studied her and tried to figure the best way to de-escalate. Her instinct was avoidance, distraction. But she felt following her instincts here would be the wrong choice.

Caroline arrived at a decision first and continued. "You see, these are the kinds of things that would be meaningless, if circumstances were different."

"You mean if I weren't in London." Eleanor worked to keep any hint of defensiveness out of her tone, putting curiosity and compromise at the front of her mind.

"Yes."

Ah. She was finally catching on to what was happening in Caroline's head. Emma might be a thorn, but she was a small one. London was still the larger pricker, lodged firmly in her paw.

Flora had paused to watch the quiet tennis match between the women.

Caroline resumed eating, and Flora did as well. Eleanor tentatively picked up her own fork, moved it here and there on her plate, but kept her eyes on Caroline.

"It's only Saturday morning, Eleanor, and I miss you already. I can't help it." Caroline's fork clattered to her plate. She straightened in her seat. She leaned forward and put her elbows on the table. "I want to be in love with you. Properly. I want to enjoy the ridiculous distraction of having you in the back of my mind all day, and looking forward to seeing you every night."

She waved her hands, she smiled ruefully. "I don't want to have a grown-up relationship yet. I want to act like a school girl and be casual and easy. I mean, as much as I can be at forty-nine, with Flora and Sulgrave Heath and – everything. But the point is - there already is everything. And now there's London, and we're frozen in place. And I can't just shag you anytime I want or see you whenever I want, or kiss you every night for as long as I want. I can't be wildly abandoned about the whole thing, and that pisses me off."

Caroline's expression had grown stern and her eyes frosted as she spoke, but the act of confession seemed to deflate her.

The instinct to deflect and distract returned. Eleanor fought it, but felt herself wearing down. She was going to face the consequences of her choice to move to London. And despite her best efforts, Caroline clearly wasn't "getting used" to the idea or settling in to a revised model of what she wanted.

It was wonderful, really, her desire to have Eleanor close was so strong that she wasn't able to just write it off and ignore it. That her desire to incorporate her fully into her life, to weave her into the fabric of her every day was compelling. Eleanor had asked for that desire, that love and trust, and here it was. She felt like she was throwing it back in Caroline's face.

They were all the right sentiments but in completely the wrong context. "I know exactly what you mean. Exactly.

"The thing is, Eleanor, I'm not a school girl anymore. This is the last go I want to make of this ridiculous love business – with you. And I don't want to just skip a part of the whole thing that's terribly fun. I might be older now, but I remember what it feels like to be young."

She looked down again, and the shift in her tone made Eleanor wary. It made her feel that what Caroline was thinking about now was serious, and not just frustrated desire.

"This month has made me think about what I really want. I want us to be a _family_. Like this. I want to count on you, and have you count on me, and raise Flora together. It's one thing when you're here and there in _my_ life. Sort of casually structured but fully committed. But I want to make sure it's the right thing for Flora as well.

I don't know – it might be fine. Lord knows all sorts of families make it work. Because family is about love and commitment. But I don't want to go half-way down the road and find out this doesn't." She swept her hand back and forth between them. Flora had again stopped eating, staring at the strawberries and whipped cream remaining on her plate. "That you're the fun one who's here on weekends for waffles, and I'm in charge of all the rest, and I begin to resent that." She looked over to Flora, and finally back to Eleanor. It was classic Caroline. The deft presentation of something devastating delivered in a casual tone and as a matter of practicality.

Eleanor felt nauseous, and lightheaded. Caroline wasn't angry. She wasn't using Flora as a weapon. She was simply keeping her daughter as the central factor of her life's equation. Making sure that the choices she herself made were ones that would keep Flora happy and healthy. Making sure that the structure she chose for her family would be enduring and solid.

There was no way to cover this in bravado. "I think if we're proactive – I – I think we can tackle this. We can do it right. I know I'm not exactly a 'Mum' to Flora. I guess I don't know what I am, actually. And I suppose that would make a difference." Her voice came out hoarse and whispery.

Caroline reached out across the table, and Eleanor took her hand. The remaining food had become severely unwanted by anyone present. Eleanor pushed her own plate aside and brought her other hand up across the table to hold Caroline's in both of hers, both of them beginning to tear up.

Flora had begun humming to herself, big brown eyes occasionally glancing sidelong at Caroline.

Eleanor didn't know how to move the conversation forward, so she said what was in her heart. "I'm committed to both of you. I love both of you."

"I don't doubt that. That you love me. That you love Flora. I don't doubt that for a second." Caroline sat back and crossed her arms. It wasn't a defensive move, it was thoughtful. She shook her head to illustrate her surety. "I mean, I suppose, it would make a difference, if we defined things, wouldn't it? Formalized things? Are we just still afraid of a real commitment, after all this time? Is that what this is about?"

"I'm not afraid of commitment, Caroline. I'm a year and a half into this with you. And I'm not looking to go anywhere else. I hope I haven't give you that impression. That's not what London is about, trying to get away from you." Eleanor frowned softly.

"No." Caroline smiled now, unexpectedly. She seemed suddenly happy. Happier than Eleanor thought she had a right to be at this moment, really. "Perhaps this is simpler than we've been making it. When I think about my future, and Flora's, I see you in it. I just haven't seen how. Haven't known what that means. And I think putting London into all of it when we did - it made it that much harder to picture. But it's all rather simple, isn't it - the solution?" She seemed almost completely unburdened now.

Eleanor was still frowning softly, but she couldn't help but return Caroline's smile, which was growing brighter as her eyes grew softer and lighter by the second.

Caroline leaned forward across the table and held out her hands. Eleanor took them, completely seduced by this confusing sudden bliss.

Caroline looked down to the table one more time, bashfully, before looking back up at Eleanor, right into her. "Why don't you marry me, Eleanor?"

Eleanor looked down and contemplated the tablecloth. She remembered how she'd felt only hours ago this morning and the unstable ground she'd been on. It still felt unstable. Caroline was already unhappy with her, with London. How would marriage fix that? She remembered her decision to marry someone out of a desperate desire to hold on to her - to marry someone because she thought it would be the only way she wouldn't lose her forever.


	43. Chapter 43

The words had flown out of Caroline's mouth almost as soon as they'd crossed her mind. But as soon as they had, she realized she meant them.

Eleanor smiled. She shook her head softly and her long auburn hair moved with her. "I'm sorry. Marriage isn't a 'solution' to a problem. We're not going to use it to cover something up." She smiled kindly - as though it would soften the horrible news dimming Caroline's sight. "I love you. Wholly. But – no."

Caroline didn't know what she'd expected to happen next when she'd asked the question. But Eleanor's refusal hadn't been it. She scrabbled for a reply. She smiled brightly and shook her head, still in good humor. "Of course I've phrased that badly. I'm sorry. That's not what I meant at all. I mean, I meant it about marrying you. But that's not why – because it solves a problem. This problem, whatever it is. It's because I want to – I want you, Eleanor. I want to marry you."

Softly, just audibly, the response came again. "No. Not like this."

The air in the room became heavy.

"Oh." She stood. She grabbed her plate and Flora's. She didn't head to the kitchen though. Instead she stood there numbly, a plate in either hand.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to say that I won't marry you. That's not the thing at all. I would. Just not – like this. I'm sorry."

"And what are your conditions? The right conditions under which you would marry me?"

"That's not what I meant. You know that. But this is hard." Eleanor stood, almost knocked over her chair as she did so. "God Caroline. Why did this happen like this?"

Caroline shook her head and found her feet again. She walked into the kitchen, and the plates went into the sink. Loudly. She tried to remember ever having been so humiliated. John's adultery? Perhaps. She watched Eleanor try to make this situation normal in any way.

Eleanor smiled over to Flora, whose black eyes were now wide. She stood and began wiping her down. She lifted Flora up and out of her chair. She bent at the knees until she was level with her and her eyes were serious with conspiracy. "I need you to help me out, Flora, if you could. How about you go pick a book, or a toy, and give your mum and me a minute to talk, okay?"

Flora nodded solemnly.

Eleanor gave her a bright smile, and offered a fist.

Flora gave it up a bump and a smile in return.

The entire exchange made Caroline sick to her stomach.

Eleanor approached her slowly. She stopped short of putting a hand on her shoulder, and settled for a quiet plea.

"Caroline."

"Is this payback? Because I won't move to London?"

Eleanor took a sharp breath. "Of course not. You have to know that."

"Do I?" At the moment, Caroline knew no such thing.

"Of course you do. Please, say that you do."

"I don't know." She shook her head and brushed past her, back to the dining table to finish clearing it. "Perhaps you should go."

Eleanor shook her head. "Oh no. No. I won't. That's not how this works. That's not how any of this works. And if marriage is ever something that might happen for us, that's not how the rest of this goes. You know that."

"How does it go, Eleanor, when I ask you to marry me and you tell me to fuck off?"

"That's not what's happened. You told me you'd discovered a 'solution,' to our problem, then followed with a proposal. How was I supposed to take it?"

"I'm sorry I didn't have roses, champagne, and a diamond ring. I thought you'd be a little beyond all that. Perhaps a little more focused on the substance." How could Eleanor possibly say no to her? They'd been building up to this for months. The only thing Caroline could think was the one thing she couldn't stand to think. That Eleanor had changed her mind – or never really been that serious in the first place. That no matter what, she never intended to marry Caroline.

"Not focused the substance?" Eleanor had almost recovered herself, but not in time, and the words came pouring out as she thought of all the substance of all the ways she thought of Caroline. "I was focused on the substance. That's why I said no. Because you didn't tell me that, perhaps, I was the only woman who made you feel as though everything were possible for you as long as we were together. That you knew, just knew, that we'd always have somehow found each other, because I must have always been meant to be in your life. That loving me has made you more real and more alive as a person than you ever had been. That, perhaps, being with me changed the very definition of love as you understood it."

Caroline was stunned into silence.

Eleanor was on a roll. "That's the substance of a proposal, Caroline. It's not a way you've thought up to bridge the distance between London and Harrogate."

Tears stood in Caroline's eyes. Eleanor could see she felt scolded on top of, of course, being embarrassed. Of course she'd never had that intention. But she still felt unsteady and her words had gotten away from her. In her mind she saw the door opening to a room she didn't want to visit. She took a deep breath. "Let's stop this, before we go completely off the rails." She came around the kitchen island and stood next to Caroline, who was thrumming with tension.

"Please look at me."

Caroline complied, feeling stunned and petulant.

"First of all, I love you. Before we go any further, let's focus on that." She took Caroline's hand, and waited.

* * *

Caroline allowed Eleanor to hold her grasp, but she looked away. Eleanor felt the storm beginning to settle and blow itself out. But the quiet remaining felt menacing, not peaceful. She studied Caroline's profile as she looked away from her, toward the living room. Her blond hair was half pulled-back, some resting over her ears and some up in her hair clip. She could see the darker roots and the grey beginning to come in at the temples.

Finally, Caroline looked at her. The tears were spilling over now, the storm surge left behind from the damage she had caused.

"I do feel those things, Eleanor. I just don't know to say them - when I should. And I know you love me. And you know I love you. Why isn't that enough?"

"For marriage?" Eleanor laid a hand at the center of Caroline's chest. "We both know the answer to that."

Caroline nodded, more tears spilling over. "I'm sorry. This has – all – been hard. I don't think I came to class prepared today." She smiled at Eleanor and sniffed.

"Perhaps someday you'll ask again. And I'll say yes. That's what I want you to take away from 'class' today. I'm not saying no to you. I wouldn't. You know how I love saying yes to you." She grinned, trying to force the sadness out of the moment. "I'm just saying no - right now." Eleanor pushed Caroline with her eyes. She took Caroline's other hand again and held both of them in hers, firmly.

Caroline nodded, brushed the tears from her cheeks and sniffed. A bit of light was coming back into her eyes. "Well this has been awkward, hasn't it?"

"A bit." She felt more than ready to give in to deflection, the worst of this all passed. She let go of Caroline's hands again. "How about some air? It's nice. Let's take Flora to the park." She picked at Caroline's cardigan, ran her hands down her arms, wanting very much to hold her but still feeling tentative.

"I think - I'm not asking you to leave. But I think I just need some time. With Flora. Is that alright?"

"Of course." Nothing about it was alright. As much as she hated it, Eleanor understood what Caroline needed. At least she could give her one thing today, even if it was space.

"Thank you."

"I love you. I'm sorry. I'll just change and head home. Will you call me - tonight, or tomorrow?"

"Yes, of course." Caroline nodded.

Eleanor hugged her, hands resting lightly on Caroline's stiff spine. She turned and headed up the stairs to dress, and escape as fast as she could, before the big tears overtook her and she wouldn't be able to collect herself for the drive home. _'I hope I haven't made a terrible mistake.'_


	44. Chapter 44

"And now I worry that I've gone and really cocked everything up." Though she was still very upset, the steady sway of the horse underneath Caroline smoothed her rougher edges sharpened by the weekend and Eleanor's resounding "no." What had stung the most and lingered the longest was the embarrassment – the rejection.

"I mean, it was fine by the time she left for London this morning. Sort of. I suppose. We managed to salvage the rest of the weekend. And we're still committed. But for the life of me I can't figure out why we're so stuck. If from here on out it will ever be anything more than endless processing." She looked out across the deep blue summer sky to the clouds and over the sea on the horizon.

Jane shrugged her shoulders. "Well I can't say I fault Eleanor completely on one count. She's a little bit old school, isn't she, a bit classic? At least taking a knee would have been nice." Jane had suggested a visit to her sister's and a good long ride might be in order after Caroline's nasty weekend.

Caroline had readily agreed, eager for any distraction she could find and now particularly happy for it after the proposal debacle, as she'd begun to think of it.

"I know I fumbled it. Give me a break. I've been rejected."

"Nah. You've been corrected. And I don't think that's sitting well with one Caroline McKenzie Dawson." Jane smiled again and they loped on. "So now you're just waiting to see what happens next?" She needled at Caroline. She read the dissatisfaction in her friend and couldn't help but push her. Caroline didn't need a shoulder to cry on. She needed a swift kick.

Caroline's head snapped over angrily. Jane was glad she wasn't a truant teenager, and glad she'd had the desired effect. "'Just waiting?' I'm sorry, but sod off."

Jane actually smiled. "I'm sorry." She raised her hands in supplication. "You're not happy. I don't like seeing it. But I can't tell either - is the trouble with you or with Eleanor?"

Caroline looked properly abashed, knew she'd just vented directly on the nearest person at hand. "I'm the one who ought to be apologizing. That was uncalled for." She sighed. "I don't know."

"I work with men all day long – they'll tell me to fuck off, and then ask me to grab a pint. It's fine. There's very little I take personally." Jane ducked under a branch, urged her horse into a trot and up a gentle rise. They crested the hill and Jane continued. "And I like to see there's a bit of fire still in you. It's the apathy you have to fear, right? If you two run into that, well it's never a good sign, is it?"

"I'm not angry - at Eleanor. I am, I guess – but more - I'm sad."

"You're not angry she's chosen London, and her career, over you?" Jane kept up the pace of her mount, wanting to keep Caroline at least a little distracted as she asked questions that were now designed to push her boundaries. She'd learned a fair bit about interrogation and how to get people to say more than they wanted to.

Caroline did feel a flush of anger at the thought, at Jane as well for provoking her. She trotted on next to her in silence. When she was ready to respond she slowed her pace, and the black-haired woman backed off to match her.

"Yes. But I understand her choice. And more than that, I respect it. I wouldn't love her as much if she weren't so driven. But she is. And I could never stand in the way of that."

"So you love her. Isn't that enough to plan a future together?"

"That's just the thing. Loving someone – and being in love – they're two different things, aren't they? And with Eleanor in London so often already, and moving there, I don't know where to even find the space to plan a future together. And I want to plan a future together. I don't want to just keep on as things are, with no progress. No marriage together, no house together, no Flora together, really. No -" She paused. 'No what?' That was exactly the problem. What was the next step forward? There was no standing still in a relationship. She'd learned that well enough with John. Soon enough stagnation turned to decay.

"Well I see where you're coming from. What you're saying. But sorry - I don't think I have any answers." Jane nodded in agreement, still glad to see Caroline could be so uppity about the subject.

They rode on. Occasionally they'd reach a clear patch of open land and one or the other of them would move into a cantor. Caroline pushed her horse into a gallop once or twice, but quickly realized she wasn't a teenager anymore, and more than that, she wasn't used to being on horseback the way she had been. Her thighs and knees were eagerly reminding her.

She slowed down next to Jane. "Can we break for a moment?"

The big summer thunderheads that had begun on the far horizon were building and seemed intent on progress. After walking the horses for a while, both women agreed to turn back as the wind picked up a mist from the coast and brought it up the to the highlands.

As they'd turned for home the warm summer rain had begun, and both the women and the horses were soaked with damp.

They dismounted quickly, and Caroline looked over to Jane as she ducked under her mare's neck and lead her toward the barn. "It's going to take forever to put up the horses."

"I know. And I'm absolutely freezing." Jane fell in behind Caroline. They walked the horses into the barn and began putting away the tack and scraping and brushing them out. Jane turned on the infrared heater over them and Caroline was grateful for the warmth.

"I can't believe it took my sister so damn long to install that. We - and the horses - were miserable for years." Jane smiled over. She handed Caroline a towel for her dripping blond hair, and picked one up for her own long dark waves. They continued on in companionable silence.

Caroline finished drying her horse as thoroughly as she could, checked her hooves for good measure. She came tightly around the back, one hand resting on her haunches. She looked up and chuckled. She couldn't help the image that came to mind. "Is that the infamous hay loft of Jane and Pippa?" The air was late summer heavy and full of horse and hay.

Jane chuckled back. "It is indeed. Sight of many teenage indiscretions."

"I find it hard to believe that you'd ever be indiscreet, Jane." Caroline smiled playfully, and felt a flare of intense emotion - frustration from the weekend and from all the stops and starts with Eleanor catching up with her. She still felt the sting of rejection.

Jane smiled right back. "Okay then. Let's be done here. I'll finish up with the horses."

Caroline tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that spark in your eye, just now." Jane inclined her head and scolded Caroline with her expression.

"Excuse me?" Caroline knew she'd been caught out.

"That's probably the first time you've ever looked at me like I'm not your adorable little sister. And the reason you're leaving, straightaway."

"Jane - "

"'Jane' what? Detective here, Caroline. You seem to always keep forgetting. I don't miss a trick."

"Right." Caroline smiled and shook her head. She felt like a pinball careening through own her life. "You know there's nothing at all behind it. I'm sorry. Things have been - hard."

"I do know. And the concept is far-fetched. But let's not make things any more complicated for you and Eleanor than they are."

"Right. Okay. Yep." Caroline nodded, turned and took her light rain coat from where it was slung over a saddle. "You're a good friend. Thank you." She walked over to Jane, gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "And thank you for today. Just what the doctor ordered."

"Any time. That's what friends are for. And next time, bring Flora, yes?"

Another brisk nod from Caroline as she put on her coat. "Say hi to Lawrence for me, and tell him to call his mother. He's on such odd shifts, I never see him at the house."

A two-fingered salute came from Jane in return. "Drive safely."

Caroline, hair now up in a pony tail that swung with her brisk pace, walked off. She was already headed past the stalls and down to the barn door. She smiled at herself and raised her hand in acknowledgement, but did not look back. "See you soon, Jane."


	45. Chapter 45

It was Wednesday morning, and Caroline was already behind her schedule for the day. She bent to grab the hairdryer from its place in the drawer. She started to stand, and felt an off-key twang in her lower back, like a thick, unskilled finger plucking stupidly at a guitar string.

She let out a sharp cry and froze in place, clutching the vanity. She stayed frozen for a moment, waiting and assessing. Nothing changed except a declining strength in her legs. If anything, she felt like the possibility of standing upright was becoming less likely by the second. She clutched her back with the hand that wasn't employed keeping her from falling to the ground. But the ground seemed nothing but inviting, and the pain that has started as a pluck was spreading and deepening into something much more menacing. She attempted to ease herself down and stopped immediately, exhaling heavily, though it hurt to do so.

Alone in the house, Caroline felt the situation becoming more and more untenable. Clearly the bathroom floor was the only viable option, but that seemed so impossibly far away. She leaned herself heavily against the vanity and sank to the ground as slowly as she could, wincing every moment; by the time she made it all the way down, her heart was pounding and she was out of breath. Every inhale was painful. She rested, still as possible, until her breathing and her heart steadied.

She stayed on her side and attempted to roll onto her back. She made it, and lay there, exhausted as if she'd run a marathon. She stared helplessly up at the ceiling. _'Oh this is not good. This is very, very not good.'_ She flew through a number of solutions, discarding any that involved trying to stand. It left few options. _'Where have I left my mobile?'_

Caroline turned her head to the side to see it lying on the duvet on the bed. Methodically, she plotted and re-plotted a path to victory. Most of her focus on how she would elevate herself to the mobile once she'd crossed the Himalayan range that was the threshold of the bathroom, and then the North African desert of her bedroom carpet.

At first, she attempted to turn and crawl her way out. She made progress but abandoned this plan A almost immediately. Her back demanded that there would be no more turning over. She'd made it to the carpet but lost her robe for her efforts. Now she was cold.

She stared at the ceiling a little longer. She focused on breathing. Relaxing. Minutes passed, and she felt her back begin to let go of its stranglehold, just enough that she could reach and pull the duvet from the bed. The pain was unyielding, but it was better than spending the rest of the day naked on her bedroom floor.

Her efforts of course brought the entire duvet down, which was an unexpected bonus to retrieving her mobile. She pulled the duvet over her and was immediately glad for the warmth. On to phase two.

She opened her contact list and scrolled through, weighing the existential pain of having anyone retrieve her this way, and the physical pain of remaining on the floor, possibly dying of starvation but most likely boredom. Her mind drifted longingly to the lovely white pills she'd had when she'd wrestled with kidney stones last summer. Were there some still in the bathroom cabinet? Surely. But surely they were expired. She cared little about that. In fact, if someone had handed one to her right now she would have chewed it as eagerly as Flora did her fruity vitamins.

Celia was her first thought of course. But then Celia would be little help when it came to actually getting Caroline into any stable position or road to real help. And Alan was absolutely out. Besides, they were both up in Halifax. With Gillian. No. Not with Gillian. She and Robbie were in Manchester today, something to do with the farm. Which was why Alan and Celia were in Halifax in the first place, with Calamity.

So Gillian - no. Greg, NO. Jenny, no. Lawrence, no. Beverley, no. John. Despite the pain, Caroline laughed out loud.

She scrolled down and dialed.

"Hello Jane."

"As a matter of fact, yes, there is something you can do something for me."

* * *

Caroline was roused by Jane's approaching footsteps. She'd spent the last of her energy maneuvering her legs up on the bed, still flat on her back. She found it the least painful of all possible positions, and she'd dozed off.

Jane ducked her head into the bedroom, saw her by the bed, smiled, and came through. She crossed her arms and towered over Caroline, prone under the duvet, and smiled down at Caroline's exposed feet. "Nice pedicure."

"You're not funny. I'm in agony." Caroline looked up at Jane, who appeared to be seven feet tall standing over her.

"I'm always funny." Jane yielded, knelt, and placed a hand on Caroline's shoulder and smiled sympathetically. "I'm so, so sorry. You look miserable. But still - helpless on the floor like that - it's not a sight every girl gets to see in her lifetime."

"You're exceptionally amusing. Congratulations." Caroline frowned. "How did you get in here? I meant to call back about that."

"You keep a spare key in a small pot under the bay window of the carriage house. And the window to your laundry is never locked."

The frowned deepened, then she smiled. "Right. Copper."

"Yes. So – " Jane turned in place to face Caroline front-ways and crossed her arms. "What are we going to do with you?"

"First of all, there are drugs in the medicine cabinet. Bring them to me."

"Which ones?"

"All of them."

* * *

Caroline was perched, half turned and half-wedged, into a chair at the physician's office, wincing and breathing shallowly. She awaited further instruction, and hopefully a prescription. She actually had chewed the last two of her magical white pills from last summer that Jane had found. They were helping, but not enough.

With a limited amount of hunting and verbal instruction Jane had managed to find a pair of pajama bottoms and a pullover hoodie. Jeans and bra were out of the question, not without significant assistance, and Caroline didn't feel like she and Jane had achieved that level of intimacy in their friendship.

Jane had been able to get her to the physician's office, but had been summoned to the precinct. Looking rather a vagrant, bra-less, straggly-haired and wearing trainers that were ridiculous with her pajama bottoms, Caroline was more than excited for the taxi ride home.

The very pleasant medical assistant that she had decided she couldn't stand came back in.

"So once the swelling and the spasms die down, we want you back in here for an MRI, or a CAT scan. In the meantime -" he held out a prescription.

Caroline looked at him blankly, tone sharp. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

"Eh – fill it, Ms. McKenzie Dawson?"

"Stroll right up to the counter, wait a while in a miniature plastic chair, and stroll back home?" If she'd been able to move, she would have made dramatic and illustrative gestures.

"Yes – " he looked tentative; he knew he was somehow in the wrong, but was not completely sure why.

"Do I look like that's how I'm going to be able to spend the rest of my morning?"

"Well –" he took in her odd position on the chair. "No. Do you have someone who can gather it for you?"

Caroline feigned a search about the room. "I don't see anyone here, do you?"

"Em, no."

"Right then. Here's what we're going to do. You are going to phone that into the chemist nearest me, and have it delivered to my house. And I am going to try very hard to not use inappropriate language when speaking to you."

He took a step backward. "Okay. I can do that."

"Good. Fine. You do that."

"And your address is?"

"Listed on the chart in your hand."

"Right." His back now to the door, the young man slid across it, opened it, and backed out, gently clicking it shut behind him.

"Bloody hell." Caroline put her forehead in her palm and closed her eyes.

* * *

"So I'm the one does the actual labor, and you're the one laid up with a bad back." Gillian came through to the bedroom rehab facility with tea, soup, and another dose for a very grumpy patient. They'd made it back from Manchester. Gillian had dropped Robbie in Halifax and gone up to assist Caroline, who was having a cranky start to afternoon.

"The ironies are boundless." Caroline took the pills first, gave them time to get started before she tackled the soup. Her stomach lining was a problem for another day.

"I'd say that's the drugs talking, but we both know better, don't we?" Gillian placed her hands on her hips and frowned down at Caroline propped on a mountain of pillows, laptop open. "And you know you're 'supposed to be lying flat, between when you're supposed to be walking."

"Term begins in a week, Gillian. I don't have time for lying flat."

"Well try to squeeze some rest in. I don't intend on playing Florence Nightingale forever. And Dad and Celia are already about done in keeping track of Flora and 'Lam both."

"Okay. Let me just waive my magic wand and heal myself instantly. Better yet, I'll just duplicate myself and all our problems will go away."

"Jesus Caroline – one of you's enough to go around." Gillian crossed her arms. She sat at the edge of the bed. "I know it's hard. Single mum. But don't discount us, the rest of us. You asked for help, and we showed up. Me, Celia, Alan. All of us. We don't really mind taking Flora up to the farm while Greg's away. Like I've said - she and Calamity are close as it gets."

Caroline sighed and took off her glasses, rubbed at the bridge of her nose. She turned and looked out the window. She could move her neck now without feeling it in her lower back. The swimmy muscle relaxers helped. _'Progress.'_

"I know Gillian. Thank you. I should have started with that."

"Yes. You should have. So what's this nastiness about? Haven't seen that from you in a while."

"I never asked for any of this." Caroline felt the distinctive effects of the meds begin, a lightheadedness and ease of confession. "Being a single mum at my age. Coping with parenting and sick kids and all the bullshit. What's happening with mum. Fixing whatever seems to have gone wrong with Eleanor. My goddamn back." Caroline was mad at herself for saying any of it out loud. She wouldn't remove any of them from her life, what they'd brought to her, or left her with.

But it was still true that she hadn't asked for any of it, and coping with all of it alone was more than she wanted at the moment. The light that had been shining so brightly at the end of the tunnel for the past year was beginning to fade, and its waning seemed all the crueler for having even been brighter in the first place.

"Yeah. I get that. Being overwhelmed."

"I suppose it will get better with Eleanor. I know I'll figure things out, steady on until it all balances." _'Back to the day to day of it all. Before I'd come to rely on her practically, and not just emotionally.'_ "It's like being in purgatory, Gillian. Eleanor's here, but she's not. We can make plans, but we can't."

Gillian bit at her thumb, cearly uncomfortable as usual with Caroline's vulnerability. "Yeah. Huh. Seems like you want a more of a partner, for it all. And what you've got right now's a girlfriend."

"Yep." Caroline leaned her head back, closed her eyes tightly and shook herself mentally. "Starting to feel a bit loopy. Time for that soup."

Gillian regarded Caroline with a wary smile and handed her the bowl and spoon. "I'll leave you to it then."

"Yep."

* * *

Caroline stared up at the ceiling as Eleanor spoke, not really catching all of it, flat on her back as prescribed. She looked at the clock. Another hour before Gillian appeared with the next dose.

"Let me know how I can help, Caroline. I know you said you're fine, but - hold on - I should be…. " In London, Eleanor paused and pivoted from her office window, the Thames far below. She clicked open her calendar. She could rearrange the following day. Ken could come to Harrogate. What she was putting together was tricky, and they needed to work out additional details. The rest could happen on the phone. _'First train tomorrow should be possible.'_

Before she had a chance to finish, Caroline snapped at her. "Well of course if you were actually here that offer of help would mean something."

Eleanor continued to stare at her calendar as it went slowly out of focus.

"Eleanor. I'm sorry. I am. I shouldn't have said that."

"But you did. And you meant it."

"No. No. I did not mean to say that. My back has me completely at a loss. And these pills - they help – but I get - in bad way. You know I have a temper. I'm sorry."

"You didn't mean to say it, but you've meant what you've said."

Caroline sighed. The dust moats floated slowly through the late afternoon sun. She was alternatively intensely alert and intensely muddled. She felt herself ramping up again, the drugs loosening her tongue and making everything pile together.

"Listen. I'm sorry. It's just – I've made it through, this entire way – on my own. Through John, and the boys – I did everything. Breakfast. Lunches. Dinner. School. Extracurriculars. All of it, and my career. John was a backstop – at best. And I saw Kate as a partner. We were to be equals, get through it all together. Until we weren't anymore. And for once, just once, Eleanor, I want it all. I want a life, and a real partner. I want someone to share it all with me. If things were different, had gone differently for me, if we'd had more time together before - this…."

"I certainly understand what it is to feel alone." Eleanor's voice was small to her and to anyone who might have listened.

"Well of course you do." Caroline felt selfish, and that irritated her further.

Eleanor pushed on, feeling the sand quickly shifting beneath her feet with the pull of the outgoing tide. "We can build all that together. That's what we want, that's what we've talked about. What we're doing. Building a life together."

Her desperation somehow made Caroline more frustrated. "We don't have a life together. We have two lives that _overlap_ , occasionally, on weekends. That's where we're going with this." She still hadn't gotten over the hurt of Eleanor's rejection, and it was showing through.

Eleanor paused, heart pumping fast. "That's not true. You know that. Can we please talk about this when I get home?" Eleanor felt as though she were floating and watching this all happen to her, instead of living through it.

"Of course we can. Friday night. I'll look forward to it. But you might need to get yourself back from the train station." Caroline's delivery was flat.

"You're being cruel. And I can be home tomorrow. I want to be home tomorrow. I can be there for you when you need me. Let me."

"It's fine, Eleanor, really. Don't worry about coming home until Friday. It really is fine. We've all got it managed on this end. Managed just fine before you were in my life, didn't I?" Caroline felt the momentum of her temper waxing again. _'Maybe I just need space.'_

"No. Stop this. You're being cruel. And we _will_ talk about this when I get home, tomorrow." Eleanor's tone was forceful, willfully making the statement true.

Caroline sighed as her mood swung back around and her tone became regretful. "Good. Fine. Whatever. Tomorrow. I'm sorry. I am." She sighed. "I don't know. It's not just that I didn't mean to say what I did. I didn't mean what I said. But I just don't see where we're going with this."

"Stop, Caroline. Just stop. We'll talk later. But I don't think we should keep on right now. I love you. More than anything." Again - willful insistence from Eleanor and an edge of a whine in her tone now as she felt Caroline moving past discontent with the situation.

Caroline blessedly bit her tongue. _'No, Eleanor, not more than anything.'_ Instead; "See you soon. I suppose. Bye _bye_." Caroline clicked off, desperate to be done before she put her foot in it again. She tossed her mobile across the room. _'Bloody hell I've fucked that up.'_

Eleanor was silent, brow furrowed. Shell shocked and blinking back tears. _'I think I've made a terrible mistake.'_


	46. Chapter 46

_"We only said goodbye in words, I died a hundred times…"_ It had been a thoroughly Amy Winehouse kind of day by this point and Eleanor's earbuds were piping depression right into her soul. She felt prescient about her musical selection as she saw who waited at her gate. She groaned audibly as she approached the flat in Kensington.

The evening was mild, and the sunset was eliciting a warm pink hue from the white buildings. It was a wonderful night for a walk, and Eleanor had needed it. But she was mentally and now physically exhausted. After her conversation with Caroline she felt panicked and off-center. The thought of losing her provoked a desperation and a loneliness in her she refused to accept, though she was running out of ways, and time, apparently, to fix it. Her rapidly blooming anxiety about it loomed large in her mind. It was ultimately confusing, and crushing.

She'd muddled through the rest of the day in the London office, leaving early and understanding that what was happening in Harrogate was distracting her from the leadership she needed to bring to Anadyne, if she were to succeed the way she wanted to. She was frustrated that her attempts to split the difference seemed to be making a mess of both worlds. Nothing was working and she was scared and angry.

Emma was literally the last person in the world she wanted to see at the moment, leaning on the gate and looking up from her mobile, stepping aside and coming through after her as she approached the front door.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Drinks, remember? And that wasn't at all the greeting I was hoping for. Rough day at the office?"

"If it had been the best day at the office, I'd still not want to see you when I arrived home. But in fact it was a long day. So please leave."

Emma did not leave. Instead she came to stand behind her, uncomfortably close, as she keyed the code to the entry.

She stopped and turned and smiled thinly. Placing her hand on Emma's shoulder, she gently pushed the woman a step backward. "You're not invited in. Don't your kind have rules against entering homes when you're not invited?"

"An arcane myth. I go anywhere and everywhere I please."

"That does not include my home."

"Now Eleanor. Darling. There's no need for rudeness. And Margaret's told me I'm always welcome. So clear on all fronts." Emma gave a pouting frown, then a look of concern. She laid a hand on Eleanor's upper arm, gave it a small squeeze. She lingered with her touch and slid her fingers down the rest of Eleanor's arm, to take her hand and give it a quick squeeze, before letting go. "I can see you're in a bad way. I won't be long, and I've been terribly sad you've been spent so much time in London and we've barely found any time to catch up. It's made me miss you more." Her green eyes were pleading and contrite.

Eleanor, fatigued and in no mood to combat Emma's persistence, felt the first brick tumble from the wall of her now wobbly psyche. She was fully aware of the complete falsehood of Emma's attempts at kindness, but she was unable to muster a strong defense.

She opened the door and walked through. She wanted her heels off, now, and worse she desperately needed the loo. Besides, she was pissed off and scared. She could use someone to tear into gratuitously, and Emma was a deserving target. "I'm tired and in no mood for you. If you'd like to waste any more of your time tonight, be my guest. You have less than ten minutes."

"How accommodating. And that wasn't so hard, was it?"

* * *

"Damnit, Emma. I spent almost fifteen years with you lying to myself. Telling myself that there were just pieces of you I hadn't seen yet. That you had some kind of substance to you that was redeeming. But there isn't. Not a scrap." Eleanor's eyes were on fire, watering with frustration, and she pointed a finger at the shorter woman's chest. Her other hand was on her hip and she was leaning toward her, standing over her in a way Emma seemed to find completely unintimidating.

Within minutes of entering the flat Emma had begun skillfully pushing Eleanor's buttons. Dropping insinuations and backing away. Making bold statements and provoking her anger, only to apologize quickly. The conversation was already escalating, clearly to Emma's delight. Eleanor was primed for a good fight. Or a passionate one, if nothing else. Eleanor's core had always been passion. She was a physical creature, and she knew Emma knew that. If you pushed her far enough mentally, she'd want to fix it with her body. That couldn't be how this ended. It couldn't.

They stood in the living room facing each other. Eleanor had escaped her heels and undone her hair, which was flying about with every animated gesture.

"Not a scrap, Ellie? And this Caroline – she's seen all of you, I suppose? All those little pieces that you've tucked away and smoothed over? She knows all about them and accepted them, accepted you, completely, as I have?" Emma smiled and stepped closer until the tip of Eleanor's pointed finger rested on her sternum.

Eleanor stepped back, dropped her hand to her side and the fire in her eyes went out as Emma played her trump card. She became silent, immediately wary. "What matters – is now - she knows who I am - now - and that's - what - matters." _'Caroline doesn't need additional reasons to dismiss me, at the moment.'_

"Is it? I rather think it's all of you, every single inch and aforementioned piece of you, my darling Eleanor, that matters."

"I am not your Eleanor." _'I think right now I'm nobody's Eleanor.'_

"Oh you are and you always will be. That won't change between us, after everything we've been through together, and meant to each other."

Eleanor practically stamped her foot on the hardwood. She wanted to. "Meant to each other? How can you say that? You had other women while we were married, and even before. You've never been faithful. I'm not thick, for Christ sake. How have I ever meant anything to you?"

"That's all they were. Women. You were my wife. We had fifteen years together, and I was absolutely ready to spend all the rest with you. I still am. I'm devoted. I'm committed. You were always the one who _mattered_." Emma purred the last and pouted at Eleanor, as though she'd been denied the pony she'd always wanted for Christmas. "You are the great love of my life. There's been no one like you. No one real since you. And there won't be. You know that."

Eleanor balled her fists tightly at her side, knuckles turning white. Squeezed her eyes shut in a completely futile effort to hold back the angry tears, and tilted her head up to the ceiling. She focused on the act of breathing, head to toe. Oxygen in. Frustration out. Repeat.

Emma took advantage of Eleanor's immobilization to wander over to the bar at the other end of the room. She slowly walked her fingers over the bottles and stopped on Eleanor's favorite, The Balvenie. She poured a tumbler and walked back over to Eleanor, whose eyes had relit with anger.

"Have a drink darling. You certainly look like you could use one."

Before she knew what she was even doing, she swatted the offered glass from Emma's hand. The crystal shattered at their feet. They both looked down, Eleanor's expression shocked and Emma's amused.

"Oh Margaret will be none too happy with that." Emma took her arm and led Eleanor away from the mess. "It's still in your eyes, Ellie dear, and in your actions as well. Our passion. Your desire. You can't hide it. You can lie to everyone but me; because I see you in there, as I have from the very start of it all." She placed her hand for just a moment on Eleanor's cheek, who was still distracted and surprised by her own actions.

"I see the guilt, the anger, the fear. And with it the undeniable impulse to grab on to something stable. Well I'm stable. In fact, I'm one of the most stable things in your life. You've left me on my own for ten years, and yet, here I am, ready as ever to take you back and make everything right again. Just as I said I would."

Eleanor was silent, eyes anywhere but on Emma, who continued. "I see how much you need me when you look at me. And you know I'd never say no to you about anything. I'm here for _whatever_ you need."

Eleanor stayed silent as she stood there hating herself. Hating the part of her that knew what Emma said was true. Struggling to find the other part of her that had spent years building a wonderful, happy and whole world with the girls, then with Caroline... A world that right now was literally and figuratively miles away. Dim and receding. Another year with Lily in Harrogate, and then potentially a life truly on her own in London if she couldn't fix this with Caroline. She hated herself, the mess she'd made of things, and the desire to take the easy way out.

And as she hated herself, she was increasingly vulnerable. She swam against the current in the flood of need that came right back as Emma wound herself around her psyche, easily insinuated herself into the well-worn and familiar hollows left over from the ropes that had bound Eleanor so tightly.

Emma purred on. "I'm older now, and wiser. I've left the indiscretions of my youth behind, and I'm ashamed of myself. Carrying on the way I did. But I've grown and changed into a better person. Just as you have."

She stood there listening to Emma lie to her, right to her face, as her tears spilled over. Crying as she'd done countless times before. And knowing that if she listened to her long enough, she'd find a way to believe her. Even worse, knowing, in a way that almost made her nauseous, that there was a sliver of her that wanted what Emma offered, to believe the fantasy, desperately. An echo of herself that wanted to fix things she'd broken with the first woman she'd ever loved. The woman who knew more about her than anyone ever had, knew Eleanor better than she knew herself. She knew how easy it would be to let her just take control again.

Emma reminded her, and she felt the old, well-worn need to stop the whispers of the past. The past she'd kept from everyone, even Vivian. Even Margaret. The past was the past, and she'd moved on.

"I'm your sin eater, Eleanor. Like it or not. I take whatever you don't like about yourself, whatever it is you've done that you judge yourself for, and I forgive you. I make it go away."

Eleanor shut her eyes, as though that could stop the psychic flow between them, trying to get a thought in edgewise between Emma's volleys.

"I accept you at face value. More than that, I love you at face value. You never have to feel scared with me, Eleanor. You can always be exactly yourself, whoever you want that to be. As far as I'm concerned, you can do no wrong." Emma smiled and the concern for Eleanor on her face was as persuasive as ever. Pleading with her eyes for Eleanor to give in and let Emma take charge again, take on her burdens for her. "It was never that you weren't good enough for me. It was always that I was never good enough for you. And I can be, if you give me a chance." Emma stepped closer and took Eleanor's hand. "You can have it all back. Just one word, Ellie. That's all it will take. We can be everything together - again. You can come home. You can have me, your work, your family. Everything."

Eleanor's phone buzzed in her trouser pocket, distracting both of them. She blinked, reached for it and pulled it out to look at it. Caroline's bright blue eyes and hard-to-win smile filled the screen as it buzzed in her hand.


	47. Chapter 47

Eleanor stared numbly down at the phone, frowning gently.

Emma looked up to study and of course make all the wrong assumptions about her expression. "Calling to send undying love and say a sweet goodnight?"

"Yes." Eleanor looked down at the other woman, who must have easily read the lie all over her face.

"Why do I doubt that?"

The mobile continued to buzz. "I have no idea."

"Then why are you hesitating? Frowning?"

Eleanor continued to stare at the phone. _'Perhaps she's calling to tell me not to come home at all. Or perhaps she – is - calling to say goodnight. Perhaps she's had a change of heart. And how am I in any condition right now to hear that? And what do I say?_ _"Hold on, let me just clear out Emma?" That'll go over well. What if I say the wrong thing? It'll all be even worse.'_

She was panicked she might miss the call if she waited longer. Panicked that she'd take the call and it would go badly - that it would cause irreparable harm. She was frozen.

Emma gently took the phone from her hand, turned away from Eleanor, and clicked it off. Sh set it on the coffee table behind her. She took Eleanor's hands in hers. "Oh Ellie. I can see how hurt and confused you are. What in the world has happened?"

Caroline's words from this afternoon came back to her. _"I just don't see where we're going with this."_ Eleanor felt punch-drunk. She looked away toward one of her favorite paintings, one that her father had bought as a gift of congratulations as she finished her post-graduate work, and put in the flat for her when she lived in London. A Frankenthaler. She loved color field and the cool tones were a subtle order, a visual comfort. _'I know Caroline didn't mean it, anything she said… she couldn't have. But I've told her no myself – and she heard it all wrong - '_

She snatched her hands back and began to fidget. "It's nothing. It's none of your business. We had a small misunderstanding and I'm sure Caroline is just calling to patch it up." The anger was gone from her tone, now one of quiet resignation.

"I still think you're lying, and I can't understand why."

"Why would I ever tell you anything about my relationship with Caroline, whether the truth or a lie?" Still no anger, just fatigue, exasperation.

"Because we're friends, and I can see you're upset." Again the concern returned to Emma's face.

She shook her head, attempting to clear the cobwebs that were rapidly obscuring her thinking. "We are not friends."

"Now that's simply not true. We'll always be friends, you and I. You know that. If you ever need me, all you have to do is ask. I said that when we divorced, and it's still true." Emma's tone was quiet insistence. "Because I always have been there for you. When you needed it most." Another reference to Eleanor's Achilles heel of the past.

"That's not true. And I haven't needed you since you left. I certainly don't need you now."

"You're lying again. But more to yourself. And I still don't understand why." Emma reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind Eleanor's ear, leaning toward her and again taking her hands in hers. "And I only left because you asked me to." Face turned up to Eleanor's and close enough she could feel her breathing.

 _'Everything feels as though it's shifting beneath me. I just need to think. I need to regroup.'_ Eleanor closed her eyes, watching herself from the inside now as the bricks began to tumble down in earnest. She opened them to see Emma's face directly before her. So near now. Structured with kindness and comfort.

Everything around her and within her was still and silent. Her mind was completely empty as she studied Emma, hating her and wanting her. She couldn't look away from those emerald green eyes, holding her in sway, red hair framing a face full of oblivion and promises of an unconditional forever. Time wasn't standing still. It was dialing backward.

"We're not friends, Emma." Eleanor's rasping voice was barely audible.

"Then what are we, Ellie?" Emma's voice was quiet, modulated and soothing.

It was all over for Eleanor. She knew she'd lost this particular battle. She'd started it weak, lonely, scared, and already half-way to defeat. Emma had an easy task of finishing her off. It had been over the minute she had let her through the door. In a larger sense, she'd timed her move perfectly, and Eleanor had made a stupid mistake. More than one.

She closed her eyes, knowing what was coming next, what had always come next with the two of them, and unable to watch it happen. She felt the river of memory crest the banks and finally rush right through her. She felt herself sink underwater, start to drown as she lost control of this encounter with Emma. Knowing that even if she and Caroline did find their way back to each other, Emma was right. Eleanor would continually make mistakes, and continually wonder which would finally be the one that Caroline could not forgive.

* * *

In Harrogate Caroline dialed Eleanor again, and it went straight to voicemail. She frowned. That was odd. Eleanor never turned off her phone. Caroline didn't know the number for the flat, wasn't even sure if there was one.

She decided to leave a message. "I wish we could have spoken tonight. I suppose I can see you when you're back. I still don't know how this can work between us, Eleanor. London. But that's not what I wanted to talk about. I just wanted to apologize. I was harsh, and unfair. I'm sorry. Call me - okay?" She paused, waiting as though Eleanor were going to answer, and realized that she would not. "Okay, then - goodnight. I do love you."

She clicked off and looked down at the mobile, wanting it to ring, wanting to see Eleanor's face on the screen as she returned the call. She waited for a moment, then sighed, placed the mobile beside her on the duvet, and started up at the ceiling.

* * *

Caught up in her own memories and almost not even present, small pieces of Eleanor continued to slip away as Emma leaned into her, hand on her neck and pulling her forward. Slowly, gently, and carefully building the momentum. It seemed like an eternity and Emma finally kissed her, and part of Eleanor was simply and empirically distracted by the feeling of being close to her ex-wife, her first love, again after all these years - remembering the familiar intoxication of it. A film reel of memory began to flow through the depths of her mind as Emma pushed her further under.

* * *

"June, no way. Mum and Dad are right." Eleanor shook her head at her little sister, pony tail whipping her face, her denial was so forceful. "And – just, no – I won't do it. I can't."

June looked up from the bed, surrounded by no more machines, no more trying. Her grey-blue eyes calm and sure in the early evening light. Serene in their own way, toward the end. "Yes, you can, Ellie. I know you can. You can do anything. And I can't – I'm too tired to do this." She smiled and slid her hand toward Eleanor's.

Eleanor took it and held it fast.

* * *

"Hey are you still here? Ellie? We're so late." From a great distance, Eleanor heard Emma push into the bathroom. The hinges were as old as the dormitory, and they made a racket every time the door moved a millimeter.

Emma rushed forward as she caught sight of the dark pool of Eleanor's hair spilled across the white tiles of the floor. She knelt and her heart pounded. She felt unwelcome tears spring to her eyes. She grabbed Eleanor up, her complexion pallid and muscles limp. Emma's tone was flat and angry. "What the fuck have you done, Eleanor?"

* * *

"The point is that you're going to get the help you most apparently and desperately need. You're a goddamn mess, Eleanor, and clearly unable to pull yourself together. You obviously need someone to do it for you, before you do something stupid again." Emma was mad. Eleanor knew it was because she'd been scared.

Eleanor nodded, head bent and shoulders stooped. "No one can know. Please. No one. About this – or about June. About anything - that's happened." She sat next to Emma on the garden bench, eyes hollow and accented by dark circles as she looked over at her. It was late spring and it was pleasantly warm outside. Term had just ended and Emma and Eleanor had graduated Oxford hand in hand, Emma propping Eleanor up mentally and physically through the final month.

The roses were in bloom, surrounding the young girls on all sides and softening the façade of the grey stone building that surrounded the roses. "What happened with your sister can stay between us for as long as you'd like, and so can this little 'retreat' here in London. Money can keep most anything quiet." Emma held Eleanor's hand firmly, her expression dismissive of any fears our doubts she might have - about anything. "I'll find a way to more. My parents are idiots. They won't even miss it. Tell your parents you're staying with me at our place in the city. Don't worry. I'll take care of everything, Eleanor. Of you. Always. No matter what."

* * *

Eleanor rose from the fog of memory to realize Emma had untucked her shirt and was now beginning to unbutton it, kissing her as she did so, her other hand still around Eleanor's neck and pulling her forward toward the couch.

She inhaled sharply at the feel of Emma's cool hands on her skin. Emma smiled, read it as a sign of encouragement, and moved her mouth down her jawline hungrily toward her neck.

Eleanor might as well have been drunk. Totally lost in the physical memory of being with Emma and how powerful it was to her, how powerful physical connection always was to her. How it filled a place in her she otherwise never knew was empty. She so intended to stop everything immediately but... it was all so blissfully overwhelming. The devil she knew seemed so awfully kind right now. She closed her eyes tight, turned her head to the side and felt Emma's mouth demand more as it moved over her skin.

She opened her eyes again as Emma kissed her exposed collar bone, and looked over to the long side-table at the wall. On it was a picture of Eleanor and the girls, smile impossibly wide as she knelt down, either arm wrapped around June and Lily, who had been nine and seven when the picture was taken. Lily was missing a front tooth. Both girls in dirty football uniforms and Eleanor with her hair back, meeting the camera with a clear gaze bursting with happiness, pride and confidence.

June and Lily had always been her totem. Her charm, and her strength. And right now, before everything else, before Caroline, even before herself, she was letting them down.

Her eyes flew wide, and she slammed her hands against Emma's shoulders. "What the hell is happening here?" She shook her head and finally found herself. "Jesus, Emma." Eleanor's shocked wide brown eyes met Emma's disappointed expression. She didn't wait for the other woman to respond. She took her by the arm, firmly.

Eleanor walked the two of them around the couch, horrified by what had almost transpired, that anything had gone this far. Because she'd had it all under control. She escorted the smirking fox to the door. She opened it and shoved her to the other side. "Go. Do not come back. Ever. If you do, there will be a restraining order. I really don't know what the hell has been happening, but it's done."

"Ring me whenever you've come to your senses. I'll always be here, Eleanor."

"No. You won't." She slammed the door shut on Emma's grinning self-assurance.

She turned and walked back to the living room and stood there dumbstruck, looking again at the picture of her and the girls. _"What the fuck have you done, Eleanor?"_


	48. Chapter 48

"Wait – _the_ Jackie Lassiter? From Oxford? As in Caroline Dawson's first love, Jackie Lassiter?" Eleanor regarded the tall woman before her with amusement and a genuine smile.

"Well I suppose one might say that, about being the Jackie Lassiter. Not really aware there are more of me. Hope not. Like to think of myself as rather unique. Sort of an odd bird." Jackie swung her shoulders side to side. "Don't know about being anyone's first love." She blushed, completing the genuine and humbled effect.

Eleanor hadn't thought about anyone but Caroline all morning. How she'd react, whether she'd be impossibly cold or a raging inferno when Eleanor's fatal misstep was revealed. But now she considered the other woman closely. _'You are an odd bird, aren't you? But terribly charming. Easy to see how Caroline fell for you. I probably would have been in the same boat. I wonder, if I had met Jackie Lassiter, rather than Emma Slattery, if things would have been different...'_

Jackie stood there, quietly, awkwardly, while Eleanor pondered. The teddy bear of a woman simply stared out the window and did a bad job of looking otherwise occupied in her thoughts. She pushed her glasses up her nose and cleared her throat. The train north had just cleared London. It was very much summer outside, and the greenbelts they passed were offset by a bright deep blue and perfectly clear sky. As happens so often in life, serendipity had intervened and she'd found a seat directly across from Eleanor.

Eleanor smiled at her warmly. "So Caroline mentioned she'd seen you once or twice while visiting William. She tried but I don't think she really did you justice."

"Oooh. Sounds ominous." Jackie grinned, eyes wide, and faked a terrified look.

"Not at all. Though you're a great disappointment. You exceed my expectations in both looks and manner." Eleanor grinned and raised an eyebrow. "I'd rather hoped you would have aged badly. More haggard and perhaps an air of existential despair about you."

"Well I suppose I can forgive you a bit of ill will and catty instincts, if Caroline has painted me as her first love." Jackie blushed again, to her roots, but bent toward Eleanor in conspiracy. "So you're the Eleanor... I'm sorry, I'm a dolt you know, and I've forgotten your last name?"

"Strathclyde." Eleanor held out her hand, and Jackie wrapped it with hers in a firm handshake.

"Oh well that's a mouthful, isn't it? Can't believe I forgot that."

"I do like to think of myself as unforgettable. You've burst my bubble." A charming grin from Eleanor. Jackie's good humor was infectious and it sparked part of Eleanor back to life after the long night previous.

"Having met you, now you're indelible. No big shock there. Caroline gets a little twinkle in her eye when you come up."

"Does she?" Eleanor felt a quick stab at her heart and it showed for just a moment on her face.

Jackie frowned herself. "Oops. Didn't think that would get a bad reaction. Sorry."

Eleanor smiled again and leaned over the table toward Jackie, hands outstretched; she rapped them on the table and sat back again. "Nothing to do with anything. And I should hope Caroline gets a twinkle over me, so to speak. She does over you as well, and I've been terribly jealous." Eleanor narrowed her eyes in mock disapproval.

"Have you now?" Jackie threw her head back and laughed out loud. She made an exaggerated study of Eleanor and laughed again. "The handsome and successful businesswoman wringing her hands over the frumpy English professor? I think not." She winked at Eleanor, who laughed. Being a fan of the habit herself, she appreciated the gesture.

"Let's agree we're both stunners in our own right and leave it at that."

Jackie leaned her head back once again and laughed with abandon. "I like it."

"How is it that I'm lucky enough to be seated by you today? Headed north for holiday?"

"Still on summer break. I'd been in London for a show, and now I'm up to Leicester for a big rare book expo. You're sort of on the milk train aren't you?"

"Just taking some time to take in the scenery." Eleanor grinned again, changed the subject in her head. This wasn't an opportunity to be missed. "Now then. I'm going to need you to tell me every single thing you can about Ms. Caroline Dawson, Oxford undergrad. You'll spare no detail." It hurt to ask about Caroline, but she couldn't help it. Couldn't help but picture her fresh faced and eager for the world.

"Hmmmmm. Pumping me for information. You do have an air of mischief about you. No existential despair here either." Jackie widened her eyes, pretended at scandal, dropped her voice, and leaned forward. "Let's do our worst, shall we?"

* * *

Three tales of chaste misadventure later, Jackie tilted her head and her hand side to side. "To be fair, my monologues on Milton at the time were both particularly vivid and compelling. I think Caroline enjoyed the break from chemical equations."

Eleanor smiled knowingly. "She still does that. Make you work hard to capture her attention, and by the time you've done it, you realize that you're the one who's been beguiled."

Jackie laughed. "Yes! Our innocently cunning Caroline." She shook her head and continued. "So there we both are. Almost middle of the night in the library basement and sure enough, doors locked. And only the bust of your great great great Grandfather Strathcylde to keep us company." Jackie nodded at Eleanor - they'd already covered the Strathclyde Oxford legacy. Eleanor nodded back, face artificially solemn in concern for their dilemma.

"Of course there were a million solutions to the problem."

"And I'm sure Caroline rattled them all off post haste, rather than - ehm – take advantage of the moment?"

Jackie put her finger on her nose. "To my great disappointment."

"She can be hopeless, can't she?"

Jackie frowned. "Seems a little personal you know, and you can tell me to sod off, but even just having met you, you seem a little out of sorts today." Her face was earnest, seemed like it had a hard time being anything else, and again Eleanor saw exactly how easy it would be to grow attached to this woman quite quickly. "Eleanor, a friend of Caroline's is a friend of mine. I come off as a goof, but I am a good listener."

Eleanor smiled softly, brown eyes warm. "I'm very glad she has such wonderful friends."

Jackie shuffled her gaze. "Well we've a little bit of time left. So if you change your mind and you want to talk – about whatever - just shout. Might have to. I tend to get distracted. And carried away."

Eleanor's eyes widened. "We've not yet made it past second year! Let's focus, Jackie. We're running out of time."

* * *

They pulled into Leicester, and Eleanor stood as Jackie did. "You were just what I needed this morning. Thank you for that."

"Always glad to be of service." She saluted. Eleanor stepped forward to hug her. Jackie wrapped her up with her usual gusto, and Eleanor hung on for much longer than she usually did when she hugged strangers. Tears bit at her eyes and she sniffed as they stood apart.

"Oh my. You are having a day, aren't you dear?" Jackie smiled down kindly and put a hand on Eleanor's shoulder. "Always darkest before the dawn and all that. I do believe it. Or at least I believe in believing in it, if you know what I mean." She leaned forward with a seriously earnest look, underscoring her warmly given advice.

Eleanor nodded and smiled up at her, grateful for the comfort.

"Cheers then. Great to meet you. We'll all do something here or there or everywhere, sometime, you and Caroline and I." Jackie ducked and waved.

 _'Yes we will. She might not know it yet, but Ms. Dawson's got a lot of time on the clock, when it comes to Ms. Strathclyde. I'm not about to just let go of the best woman to ever walk into my life. Pull yourself together, Eleanor. This is far from over, and more than worth it.'_

Eleanor waved back. "Fantastic to run into you, Jackie."

* * *

It was almost midday as the taxi dropped Eleanor at her front door. She sent the driver off and looked and relieved to settle into relatively rural quiet. _'It's very good to be home.'_

She dropped her bag in the foyer and went through to the kitchen. She looked at the clock. Still an hour before meeting Ken back at the Harrogate office. She put on the kettle and picked up her phone. As it rang she pulled out a jar of jasmine green.

She smirked at the smart remark on the other end of the line. If they hadn't come up together through University this woman would be insufferable. But she wasn't. She was actually a good friend, and one who could be counted upon when Eleanor needed her. "Yes, hello to you too, Catherine. Thanks for calling me back. You can skip the banter. This is business."


	49. Chapter 49

While she'd been up and about earlier in the day, Caroline was flat on her back again. She picked up her mobile for the tenth time to stare at the off-key text exchange with Eleanor from earlier in the morning.

 _'Got your message last night. I'm sorry I wasn't able to call back; but thank you. That meant a lot to me. I desperately want to talk but let's do it in person. I'm guessing you'll be home if I come by early this evening?'_

 _'Yep I'll be here.'_

 _'Thank you. We have a lot to discuss. I miss you terribly, Caroline. Don't give up on me quite yet.'_

She kept re-reading the last sentence and pondering the tone of the entire text. It was a mix of Eleanor's typical confidence and the recent timidity she'd shown. What was going on? And why hadn't she called back last night? She chided herself again for letting her temper and frustration get the best of her the other night, the way she'd left things. Eleanor had a right to feel distant. She frowned, vexed. Had she given up on Eleanor? In her heart? She wasn't sure. She was anxious and excited to see her later, and trying not to feel frustrated.

* * *

When Eleanor did appear at her bedroom door, timidly peeking through and a soft knock, Caroline couldn't help but smile. She'd desperately wanted to see her, and here she was - just the sight of her making the entire world one shade brighter. "Hi."

Eleanor came through and stopped at the side of the bed. Caroline winced as she moved to sit up further to face her.

"Careful." Eleanor winced back. She sat gently on the side of the bed. "How are you?"

"I'm better, actually, today." Still hurting from the movement, she smiled, just a little less tight than the muscles in her back. "How are you?"

"I've been better."

"Truthfully, so have I. How were Lawrence and Flora when you came in?" She reached across the duvet to take Eleanor's hand.

Eleanor smiled. "Doing quite well, actually. Looked like dinner was being cleaned up. I was - surprised, actually."

"That was a strict condition of him staying here - that he act like a proper big brother."

"It seems like he's doing a fine job of it. He seems like he's doing well all around. I'm happy for him. I'm happy for you."

She smiled tentatively, because Eleanor hadn't relaxed her tone or her posture. "Thank you."

Eleanor took her hand and held it tightly, and stared at their interwoven fingers.

"So." Caroline wasn't sure what any of this meant - but she was quite sure that the woman sitting on her bed wasn't the same woman she'd dropped at the train station at the beginning of the week. And this time, Eleanor so close to Caroline, her fear and vulnerability lurking just under her skin, this time it didn't anger her. It softened her.

Eleanor slid off her heels, rearranged herself and sat cross legged facing her. "We've made a real mess of things, you and I. I've been passive, and I've been a fool. You've reacted badly, and I understand. I've hurt you. I'm sorry for that, Caroline. Of all the things that have happened recently, I'm sorry for that the most."

The look of contrition on Eleanor's face was so much more than she expected. She frowned softly. She'd played her own role in things, after all. "We've both done our part though, haven't we? I meant what I said in that message. I shouldn't have said what I did yesterday. There were reasons for it, but it doesn't excuse it. And I didn't mean it."

"I know. And I love you, Caroline. All the way. Every piece of me."

Again Caroline frowned. "I know we've got a whole Protean knot to unravel between us, but I can't help but feel there's more going on than I thought."

"There is." Eleanor sighed and stood. She jammed her hands in her trouser pockets. "There is more, Caroline. And I'm going to ask you to help me with it. Not in a small way. In a big way. I'm going to ask for more than I have a right to. And you can say no. But I hope you won't."

Caroline honestly didn't know how to respond. "Okay."

"I think you know that I see someone – an analyst, on and off."

Caroline nodded.

"I need to speak with her about things that have transpired. Recently and in the past – the distant past. I need to make sure I'm putting my best foot forward, I suppose, as I do this with you."

Caroline frowned, and nodded. "I'm really sorry, but I think you've completely lost me here."

"And I've lost myself. At least – misplaced myself, temporarily. Who I really am. Not who I used to be. I've stopped being the Eleanor you met and fell in love with. And that's not fair to either of us."

Caroline rearranged herself again to sit up further, and grimaced. _'Damnit.'_ She wanted to be having this conversation on the level with Eleanor. Right in front of her and looking right in her eyes. It felt important. "Hold on." She adjusted further and brought her legs up cross-ways. It actually felt good on her back, resting tired muscles and stretching ones that had been dormant. She tilted her head down at her feet.

Eleanor sat back down on the bed in front of Caroline, their knees touching. "London has been a mistake. All of it. And one mistake has been compounded many times over. I don't know how to fix it yet - completely. But I'm working on it. And I am still _your_ Eleanor. I still am – wholly. When I see myself any other way, it's all wrong. That's what I've realized. It's whether that realization has come in time."

"In time for what, Eleanor? For us?" Facing her, here and now, Caroline realized again how completely she was still in her heart. They'd begun to mean something to each other. Something real and tangible and in a way that wouldn't allow either woman to just turn and walk away. Separation would now cause its own difficult pain and lasting trouble. Wounds that would last and doubts that would linger. _'Only one way to go in life, Caroline.'_ She smiled as Gillian's words came to her. Eleanor still felt like forward.

She took her hands and smiled, hoping to offer a small measure of encouragement. "How can I help you?"

* * *

Eleanor smiled back, grateful for the offer, grateful to be in this room, even. But Caroline's good nature still felt premature. It was easy to offer help when you didn't feel betrayed. She exhaled. "I need time. I need a few days to get myself together. I've made a mistake, and I need to forgive myself before I can ask for your forgiveness."

Caroline stiffened and the look in her eyes became fixed. "I don't like what I'm hearing, here, Eleanor. And I think perhaps this isn't about London anymore."

"It is and it isn't." She squeezed Caroline's hands and released them. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath in and out. She opened her eyes and brought a hand up to Caroline's chest. "Right now I'm asking for your trust. Your patience. Give it to me for just a little longer. To sort things out and come to you with a complete picture. And when you have it, I'll accept your response."

"I'm just at a total loss here. None of what I'm thinking is good."

"It's not as bad as all that. I promise you. I think it's all larger in my head, and I need to get it out. Much of it is about my family, and things even I haven't spoken of in thirty years. The hinges are rusty."

* * *

"I do understand rusty hinges." Caroline sat up straight. "I asked you to marry me, for christ sake. If I can't trust you, if I can't help you when you clearly need it most, then you would've been right to turn me down. I've said a lot of stupid things, but saying I want to spend my life with you is the smartest thing I've ever said. If you want my trust, you've got it. You've had it. And you can keep it as long as you'd like." She paused, finished quietly, almost talking to herself. "If we're to keep going at all, that would seem fundamental, wouldn't it?"

"Yes." Eleanor smiled, and this time a twinkle came to her eye. "Can we pretend for just a moment that things aren't hard right now? That I've just come home from a harrowing week in London to offer aid and comfort to my ailing, adorable, edible, challenging, gorgeous, smart, wonderful, and completely helpless current girlfriend?"

"Oh I'd like that very much." Caroline sat back and let out a deep sigh, but smiled. "Gillian and Celia and Alan have been a Godsend. But none of them are exactly you, are they, my inscrutable current girlfriend?"

"No one is exactly me. That's the beauty of it. I'm absolutely singular."

Caroline met her sparkling brown eyes squarely. "You are singular, aren't you?. And I know who you are, Eleanor Strathclyde. I might not know all the hows and whats and whys - _yet_ ," She placed her own hand on Eleanor's chest now and narrowed her eyes - "But I know you. Perhaps you don't, right now. But I do."

Eleanor's eyes and nose stung, but she smiled and unwound herself. She lay on her back next to Caroline, who straightened her legs and slowly moved down her mountain of pillows to lay next to her. She considered their positions and made a small noise of dissatisfaction. She slid under the covers and pulled herself under Caroline's arm and rested on her chest. She felt it rise and fall and listened to the steady heartbeat. She closed her eyes. _'Just let this be enough for now.'_


	50. Chapter 50

"Well I know, love. It's not something immediate. It's not something we're _planning_ on. But Alan and I have talked about it. And you know what that young doctor said. Just because nothing's changed yet, it doesn't mean it won't." Celia held Flora's hand and spoke in that direction, as if to her and not to Caroline.

"Having someone come in is one thing, Mum. But I won't have you moving out. Because I can take care of you. This is your home. _Our_ home." Caroline was finally freed from the bedroom. She and Celia were walking with Flora, a short outing around the block. She had strict orders to move but not 'overdo it.' Term started next week and she had no intention of showing at anything less than full strength.

"And Mum – how in the world would we pay for something like that? No. It's ridiculous." Caroline shook her head. "That's final."

Celia ignored her daughter's protests. "I won't do to you or Alan what your dad, what Kenneth, did to me, Caroline. I won't be a burden." She shook her head, mirror to Caroline, and cut the air with her hand for effect.

Caroline exhaled loudly and her tone was animated, as were her hand gestures. "Okay. Okay. First of all, Mum - you're not Dad. And I respect your wishes. But you and Alan are staying." Her blond hair swung with her head movements. "You can go back and forth between Halifax as long as you want. But when it's time, you're _staying_. This is our house. Our home. All of us."

"And what about this Eleanor of yours? You won't end up missing her and want to move? Love can make us do funny things."

Caroline wasn't sure if Celia was being supportive or pulling at a thread. "London's out, Mum. It's not right for me, and it's certainly not right for Flora. Not with Greg in her life. Not with all of us. This is where Flora's family is."

"It's where your family is."

A quick interpretation of that statement yielded much more information - a reminder from Celia who she considered in - and who she considered out. Caroline crossed her arms over her scarf and walked on. The late afternoon breeze was hinting at fall. _'Eleanor said London was a mistake.'_ She didn't want to think that perhaps Eleanor might be reconsidering. Didn't want to hope, and didn't want her to give up her plans in order to stay in Harrogate. As Janet Grisham had reminded her long ago, Eleanor hadn't tripped and fallen where she was now. She'd worked very hard. She'd earned her advancement, she deserved it. It felt wrong to hold her back.

And yet it had been so nice to have her home yesterday. She hadn't wanted her to leave, then or now. She'd asked Eleanor to stay with her that night, and had been surprised that she wouldn't. But there was something bothering Eleanor, and it had nothing to do with Caroline. She didn't want to think it, but part of her knew it had to do with Emma. Eleanor just had that _look_.

Still, she wasn't exactly the jealous type. It hadn't been easy to talk about Greg with Kate, to go forward that way, but it was what Kate had wanted. What she'd decided was best for her life. So she put the doubts out of her mind. Eleanor had asked for her trust. And she'd given it. It was out of her hands until Eleanor decided to do - whatever it was she decided to do.

She'd felt only lightness in her heart when she'd seen Eleanor appear at her bedroom door, relief. She'd also felt the calming of Eleanor's spirit as she'd lain next to Caroline. She made a commitment to preserving the love that made those things possible. What they had together wasn't fragile, and it wasn't shaking apart with the first good gust of wind. Love, after all, was not love that altered so easily.

Caroline just hoped the resolution would be soon, and that it would involve her and Harrogate. She'd had plenty of time to think, staring up at the ceiling. Time not dealing with school, and Flora and Celia and everything else. Time for perspective. And the one piece of the puzzle that was missing, keeping it all from seeming manageable and right – was Eleanor. Her presence calmed things. Her not-quite absence agitated. London was out. But this old dog and her bad back _could_ learn to bend, somehow.

"What's on your mind, dear?" Celia smiled, and took Caroline's hand.

Caroline smiled over and put her hand through her elbow. "Just thinking about family. I think we've managed to have a good one." She pulled her closer, tighter, and smiled. Celia put her hand over Caroline's and smiled back.

* * *

"So what's going on?" Vivian smiled and regarded Eleanor kindly.

It had been many years since this particular version of Eleanor had sat in this office. She tried, unsuccessfully she was sure, to hide a nervousness below the confident surface. She felt watchful. Eleanor had asked to set an appointment with her analyst, Vivian, sooner rather than later.

They'd had to set an early AM meet, and Eleanor's eyes were still sleepy. She hadn't stayed late at Caroline's. She'd been up and restless when she got home, wandering the empty house. Finally dozing through the grey early morning on the couch with the television on in the background. She hadn't had a good night's sleep in a couple days. And above most other things, Eleanor loved her bed. Another reason she was on-edge and ready for change.

She ran down a chronology of the past month's events for Vivian, who did not interrupt her. "Okay. That's a lot. Tell me what's going on with you right now."

"I thought that I had many things under control that I clearly didn't." Eleanor couldn't help her tears. She was angry. At Emma, and very much at herself. But despite the calm last night, when she thought about Caroline she felt panicked and the tears came quickly. That angered her further. The time for inaction was past, personally and professionally.

"What got 'out of control,' as you put it?"

Eleanor nodded. "My reaction to Emma. My inability to deal with her. My inability to manage my relationship with Caroline. I lost control of both of those things."

"Why now? What's going on that Emma was able to make you 'lose control?'" Vivian's diction tipped her hand, her care to emphasize Eleanor's choice in using those words.

Eleanor paused. She'd been thinking about this question continuously. "Everything is completely off the rails now. It's been hard all summer. I was starting to feel very anxious. And the girls have mostly been gone so long. And June is leaving for University. Lily, and June and I - we're driving her to Exeter this weekend, in fact."

Vivian allowed a little time for Eleanor to let her own words sink in. It was less the paradise she'd imagined it all to be, when it became real and tangible.

"This Wednesday night, the night I had the run-in with Emma. I felt completely at a loss. Caroline had called earlier that day. She was clearly out of sorts – her back was out, and she was in pain. She said she really couldn't see a way forward for us while I was in London. I knew it was partially the medication and the pain speaking, but it still hurt. I suppose knew it wasn't true. But I couldn't help a small part of me that felt it was. And then of course she has asked me to marry her this past weekend, and I turned her down." Eleanor shook her head. "I think that was a mistake." She looked vacantly over Vivian's shoulder. "And it all seems like it's happening so quickly. One thing after the other."

Vivian nodded. "I can't imagine that was easy for either of you. Why do you think you made a mistake?"

"It was awful to say it, to turn down what I wanted so badly, and hurt her in the process. But it didn't feel right. _I_ didn't feel right. I didn't feel settled. Emma was on my mind – dealing with her. And dealing with all the things Emma stirs up. Dealing with London. But telling her no… I don't know. I don't know if I even had a right answer to her proposal."

"Okay. We'll go back to Caroline in a minute. But for now - I have a pretty good idea what happens when you get sidetracked by Emma – what was happening in particular?"

Eleanor paused. It was time. She took a deep breath in and held it for a minute before exhaling.

"I've left something out of the story. My story. Entirely. About me - and about Emma. Or how she was – involved – I suppose, with what all happened. I've left something out of my life for a long time. I haven't told you the entire story about what happened at University. Or rather, I've told you only part of the reason I had such a hard time – part of the reason why I ended up at the hospital in London."

"Would you like to tell me now?"

Eleanor nodded and her hair fell forward. She tucked it back behind her ears. "It has to do with June – my sister June. And her death." Vivian's open expression didn't change, and she waited patiently. Eleanor took a deep breath and continued. It had been almost thirty years since she'd talked about what happened with June. And the only person she'd told, other than her psychiatrist during her stay in London, was Emma. Eleanor thought the time for that secret had expired. It needed to come out. She'd glossed over it for so long, so many times in telling the story, that it almost felt intangible when she tried to give it shape. And she needed to figure out how.


	51. Chapter 51

"So, when – June was dying. At the end. When – you know, she only had a shorter bit of time – left." Eleanor looked down at her hands. "Ummmm." She paused as she thought back on it in a way she had not for many years. Tried to think of it, order it, in a way that was cohesive enough to form a narrative. "When she was under hospice care, it wasn't okay. I mean, of course nothing was okay. But you know, she of course wasn't okay at all." Eleanor sat back and tried to collect herself and find a way to move forward with the telling.

"She was really bad. She felt awful. All the time. It was really hard for her. But you know she was still sort of able to eat and drink, and so they said she was, like, going to go on for a while. And – she didn't want to - to keep going. I could tell. I mean, she told me, too. And Mummy and Dad. But that wasn't something that was going to happen, something - that would happen." Eleanor shook her head vehemently.

"And she told me how it was bad, and she how she hated it. She asked me – she pleaded with me - if I would help her. You know." Vivian did not indicate she did, and Eleanor had to continued. "Like - end things."

"And I couldn't. I just couldn't. I knew our parents didn't want it. And I didn't know if it was right – like the right thing to do. June said I could do it, that I could do anything. But she also said she understood that I wouldn't. And that was okay with her. She was really nice about it. She said she could see how hard it was for me. And she kept smiling up at me, still, and I kept telling her I was sorry. For everything."

"So she kept going, like I said. For another couple weeks. And it was really hard, and she was hurting all the time. And then things sped up all of a sudden. And it was over. But it was really hard for her, those weeks. And I'm really sorry I didn't help her. That I couldn't be strong for her, like she asked me to."

Eleanor slumped back in her armchair, exhausted. She swiped at her eyes with a tissue.

Finally, reaction from Vivian. She raised her eyebrows. "That's a lot, Eleanor. That's a lot for anyone at any age to handle and cope with. But at sixteen – you would have been completely unprepared for something like that. And it's perfectly understandable that without the right help, all of those feelings snowballed over time."

It was clear for anyone to see that Eleanor still hadn't healed, hadn't started the process even. She'd almost felt present in first person during the telling. Clearly she hadn't even yet woven an adult narrative of the experience.

Eleanor nodded. "Yes."

"Why do you think you weren't strong for your sister. And by that I mean, how do you feel that you weren't being strong in your support of her?"

"Because I couldn't help her in the way she'd asked for it. I was weak, then, when I was younger."

"There's a couple things there I want to talk about." Vivian uncrossed and re-crossed her legs. The older woman was thin, tall, and it was an elegant gesture of reconsideration. "First, it sounds to me that June accepted and understood your decision - and was more concerned that you understood that it was fine with her."

"Of course she'd say it was fine. June was quite kind. Always. That's how I remember her."

"So you don't believe she was being truthful?"

Eleanor was silent. Vivian let it sit with her a while, and moved forward.

"And why do you say you were a 'weak' person when you were younger? It seems to me you were quite strong in many ways."

"The suicide attempt at University. It's not something to be proud of, of course. It doesn't make me feel like a strong person. I understand why I did what I did. What was going on then. But I'm still ashamed of who I was. I'm ashamed of what I did. Even though I'm proud to be who I am now. After all, it's not something you bring up at cocktail parties. There's a reason for that. People judge you."

"You have grown stronger. But I'm still not sure why you characterize yourself as weak at any point."

"I think Emma used to talk about it that way. And it stuck."

"Ah. I'm going to challenge you again on thinking of yourself as weak. As someone who should be ashamed of herself. Say you spoke to a friend who had a similar experience as you. Perhaps someone you work with. Would you think of him or her as weak?"

Eleanor shook her head.

"And if that person asked you for help, or, rather, had the strength to admit when they needed it, and asked for help, would you judge them, and say no? Tell them they ought to be able to figure it out on their own - 'be stronger'?'"

Eleanor shook her head again.

Both women paused. It had been a long time since Eleanor had done work of this nature with Vivian, and she needed a breath. The other woman watched her, let her collect herself and continued.

"And your parents don't know about any of this? About June, your suicide attempt, or your stay at the hospital in London?"

"No."

"And you think it's time to tell them?"

"Yes." Yes - and no. Margaret and Emma would likely tow the same line on the whole weak proposition. But Jonathan - and Caroline. And the girls. They should know.

"I have to say I agree, Eleanor. I think talking to people about this, to your family, is going to help. A lot. Do you know your next steps? Are you ready for this?"

Eleanor smiled. It backed with was nervous reflex, and fear. "I'm in no way ready. But I will be."

"And what do you intend to say to Caroline? What will you be telling her?"

"I'm going to tell her all of it. Everything. Somehow. I don't know exactly how, yet. But I'm going to ask her to forgive me. I don't have the right to expect anything from her – " she glanced up and reframed her thought. She had garnered her own ability to read Vivian, and catch when she anticipated a course correction might be forthcoming. "I'm going to be as honest as I can. And what happens next is up to her."

"And what is it you're asking her to forgive?"

She wasn't exactly prepared for that question, but she supposed there was more than the obvious answer. "I wasn't faithful to her. At least I stepped outside of what our tacit understanding of the relationship is – or - was. And I didn't do what I needed to do to take care of myself. I let Emma get the best of me. And that lead to Caroline getting hurt."

"I think you were hurt as well." Vivian set her notebook to the side and leaned forward on her elbows. "I'm going to be a little long winded in reminding you about something. Because it's important that you remember it as you go forward with Caroline, if you do. Emma's a predator. Her timing with this wasn't coincidental. She knew June was leaving home. She knew that you must be having conversations with Caroline about London that were at least difficult. She timed her move perfectly. To you it seemed out of the blue. To her, it was right in time. I want you to think about whether you're going to classify this as weakness on your part, because you've been thinking of yourself that way. This was instinct on her part Eleanor, to hunt. And you did stand up to her. And that was your instinct."

Eleanor nodded. She had ultimately fought back. And that was always something she was proud of, when she could slam the door in Emma's face. And really, truly, this wasn't about Emma.

"How do you think Caroline's going to react to all this?"

"I don't know. I can't imagine well – at least to what's happened with Emma. I know she'll – understand – what happened at University." Fresh tears began. She looked down. "But I worry that she's going to judge me, even if she doesn't mean to."

"You worry that she'll think you're weak."

Eleanor nodded. She covered her face with her hand and closed her eyes against it, but the tears came heavier this time. "She'll think that I'm damaged goods. I'm not worth the trouble."

Vivian was quiet. Her words following were delivered slowly, carefully articulated.

"First, I want to ask a question about you - before we talk about Caroline." Vivian took off the glasses she'd been wearing as she took notes and considered Eleanor kindly. "Do you think you're 'damaged goods'? Do you think you're worth the trouble?"

Deep down, Eleanor knew the answer to that question, unequivocally. But it took a minute to come to the surface. "I think I've had challenges. But I think I'm absolutely worth it." A weak smile, then more confident.

"OK." Vivian nodded and smiled approvingly. "I know a little about Caroline. But I'd like you to tell me what leads you to think her reaction will be to judge you that way."

"She can be amazingly generous. She'll go out of her way to be supportive for the people she loves. Whether or not it's convenient and whether or not she particularly agrees. She can be very unconditional in her love." Eleanor remembered Caroline's story of Judith's fall on her front steps and the trip to casualty, how she'd stayed with her. She also remembered the choice words Caroline had had regarding Judith's mental state.

Of course Judith had been John's mistress. Caroline had choice words about her as a matter of course. But Eleanor never wanted to imagine her thinking about her the way she thought about Judith. Even a little bit. It gutted her. "But she can occasionally be judgmental."

"Is her reaction something you can control?"

"No."

"Do you trust her?"

Eleanor closed her eyes and nodded gently before opening them again. "Yes. I do."

"Okay. And if she came to you, with something like this, how would you react?"

Eleanor was silent. She hadn't considered that at all. She spoke slowly, words coming one at a time. "I'd be hurt. I'd be angry - sad – that – she didn't – hadn't – asked me for help sooner. Because I think I would have wanted to help her if I could have. And I'd still want to help her now. Because I can't stand to see her hurting. Love – commitment - is helping someone when she needs it. Even when it's hard to do so."

Eleanor sat for a moment with her thoughts. Vivian smiled vaguely and changed position again.

"So you're going to tell her all of this, and if she forgives you, what happens?"

Eleanor frowned. "I'm not sure of what you're asking."

"If she does forgive you, will you create more tests for her? For your relationship?" Vivian's delivery was straightforward. On rare occasion she would throw a fastball right at Eleanor. And it was rare that she would see them coming in time to duck. Usually they hit her square, and she would sit quietly assimilating as Vivian waited patiently.

"You mean – London – and - the proposal?" Eleanor worked to catch up.

"And what's happened with Emma." Another fastball. Vivian wasn't just playing anymore.

Eleanor held her hands in her lap and stared at them. "You're saying I've perhaps been intentionally 'weak' as a way of testing whether she will use that vulnerability against me."

"Yes I am."

There was something new in Eleanor's eyes when she looked back up to Vivian this time. Or, rather, the return of something that had been missing for a while.

Vivian smiled confidently at Eleanor, who returned it.

"I'll see you next week?"

"Yes."


	52. Chapter 52

"We're agreed, then? All of us? On the terms we'll offer?" Ken looked from the Anadyne CFO Madhur, over to Eleanor, and then to their board chair, Lisa, who responded. "It's the right move. All around. We're finally about to make our counterparts at Pantheon very happy."

The outgoing CEO looked over to Eleanor and smiled. "It's taken you weeks – and I didn't think you could talk me into this. Or Lisa. She's never said yes to anything I've ever tried to get her to do. When you first brought it up I thought you'd gone mad. But you could sell matches to the devil, Eleanor."

"It helps when you've got the right motivation, Ken." She smiled back broadly. "And you didn't have to hold out on me this long. The words 'absolutely not' were growing tiresome. I almost gave up." She pouted but shrugged in good humor.

"Well I'm glad you didn't. And you finally brought me numbers that made sense." He tapped the fat folder on the table with his index finger.

"Well then. Like I said. It's all about finding the right motivation."

* * *

' _I'm headed out of town for Exeter Sunday morning with the girls. Can I stop by? I have something for you, and June wants to say hello and goodbye.'_

Eleanor was smiling, ear to ear, as she tossed her mobile in her purse and started the Land Rover. She saw a way clear of all of the mess of the past months. The momentum of change, once it's properly begun, was lifting her, and she was ready. She allowed herself a bloom of optimism for just a second, even through the heaviness of the events yet to come.

* * *

 _'Of course. I'd love to see you. You can come by any time, Eleanor. We can leave things be. I'm happy just to see you. You can help me with all this bloody stretching I'm supposed to master.'_

Whatever might be about to happen or not with Eleanor, Caroline willfully ignored it. She simply let herself be happy that things hadn't gone completely out of control this week. She sensed they'd come very close. Nothing like almost losing something to calm the temper and inspire patience.

 _'OK.'_

 _'I'll be home Sunday. I'm on my feet again, but sticking close. I'm sorry I'm not well enough to come with you all.'_

 _'Me too. How about 9am?'_

 _'I'll look forward to it.'_

 _'Definitely.'_

* * *

It was hard to tell who was more excited when Eleanor and the girls piled out of the Land Rover. Caroline or Flora. Caroline stood smiling, hand on the door jamb supporting herself, while Flora ran forward. She stopped suddenly, remembering to be shy. She was clearly overwhelmed and didn't know who to approach first. Eleanor leaned on the car and Lily held back. June stepped forward and knelt with her arms wide. Flora gave one more shy smile, then an open one, and stepped forward. "Hi hi hi!"

"Well hullo you." June hugged her, picked her up as she stood. "I've missed you!"

"Hi hi hi!" Flora smiled at June and wiggled down. She ran back to Caroline, crashing into her leg.

Caroline met Eleanor's eyes. They looked at each other for a while and Eleanor stopped leaning on the car and started walking toward the house, Lily just ahead of her. She grinned, and her eyes wouldn't leave Caroline's.

The girls stopped to say hi on the way in, hugs and kisses exchanged, and went into the house with Flora, who was already peeping and hollering and occasionally hooting with excitement. It was back to owls.

Eleanor stood directly in front of Caroline, the two of them together facing each other in the doorway. She was different this morning. She had her spark again. Her mischief – and her calm grace. Caroline had missed it the way you realize you've missed spring when the bulbs first start to sprout, and the mornings are warm. When you realize how cold you've been for so long.

When she'd come and gone Thursday night Eleanor had only kissed her perfunctorily - chastely. A hello and a goodbye, nothing more. It had been beyond out of character. The slow simmer Caroline had always seen in her eyes, that one look only she got to see, had cooled to an occasional flicker. She wanted to see that simmering desire again, desperately. She searched Eleanor's eyes for it now. There it is. Below – something – but there it was. Caroline came more alive in finding it. Instantly she hated that Eleanor would be leaving. She wanted her all to herself, all day long. There were a million thing she wanted to say, though she had no idea what they were. And another million things she wanted to do. She had a clearer picture of those.

"Hullo." Eleanor looked right at her - raised an eyebrow and brought a hand up to smooth Caroline's unwrinkled chambray shirt.

"Hi." They were perfectly in the moment. For now, it was just Caroline and Eleanor again. As they had been since Eleanor had walked with so much purpose into Caroline's office and Caroline's lonely life that winter morning so long ago. The game was afoot. Caroline's stomach somersaulted in familiar excitement. "I've missed you."

"Have you?" Eleanor looked in toward the kitchen and then slowly back to Caroline suggestively. The girls were in the living room with Flora. All seemed well. There was still so much to say. But it could wait. Just a moment to be them again.

 _'Here she is. Here's my Eleanor. Oh how I have missed her. I think she might be going again, soon. But I don't want her to. I want this.'_ Caroline played along with the coy quiet. She ut her hands behind her and leaned back against the doorway, away from Eleanor. "Yes I have."

Eleanor brought both hands up to smooth Caroline's shirt, and took her time about it, chin tilted down and holding her gaze. Now Caroline saw more than the simmer. She saw that desperation again. Her body and her soul yelled in outraged protest as she exhaled, took Eleanor's hands in hers and smiled, altering the chemistry between them.

"Come on. Let's go see the girls. We've got to keep you moving."

Eleanor placed her hand on her hip to stop her as she started to move inside. "Wait." She put her other hand on Caroline's stomach and leaned into her, against the doorway.

She felt a sting of surprised tears at the way this exchange felt so entirely new between them. Eleanor's kiss, when it finally came, was one of total innocence. It had the curious hope and adorable sweetness of a young girl asking for permission. It demanded nothing and it assumed nothing.

Eleanor lingered, but only long enough that the experience had the time to fulfill itself. She looked right at Caroline again with a curious openness. She didn't say anything, but held Caroline with her eyes a moment longer. She placed a hand on the side of Caroline's face. She smiled, and turned and walked into the house.

Caroline didn't move. She blinked back tears and cleared her throat. She took a step forward to follow, and then paused. She collected herself, smiled down at the floor and tugged at her shirt before continuing on to join Eleanor and the girls.

* * *

Later that night, Caroline sat crossed legged and pushed up on her bed against a pile of pillows. She turned the thick cream-colored envelope over in her hands. Eleanor had left the letter this morning when she'd come by to say hello. The house was quiet now and it was getting late. Flora was asleep hours ago and even Lawrence had already come in, wolfed down a sandwich, and gone to bed.

' _Caroline'_

Eleanor had written her name on the front. It hadn't been necessary of course, and so it felt formal. Her full name. No usual 'C.' It was intentional and weighted.

The lamp on her left was a bright but warm yellow, illuminating her on the bed and little else. It intensified the old-fashioned feel of the papers she now held. Eight pages, covered only on the front, in Eleanor's tightly looped and angular handwriting. She had clearly wanted Caroline to take this information in slowly, and deliberately. To reflect on it in solitude and come to her own decisions. She settled back further into the pillows and began the process.

 _Caroline –_

 _I've spoken about my sister June, and her passing. I've told you the story, but it's not the whole story…._

The letter continued on. By the end of June's story and the first few pages, Caroline's heart was slowly thrumming and her chest was tight.

 _When June finally passed, I carried it with me. But not just the grief. I carried the guilt as well, and it chipped away at me. It chipped away at me, and unfortunately Emma helped it along - or, rather, I let her help it along..._

Eleanor continued. She explained her time at University, the slow momentum of losing control, and finally the suicide attempt.

It was the middle of the night now. Nothing moved inside the house or outside. The only sound was the scraping of the papers as Caroline would occasionally pick one back up to read again, and her sniffles and small little sobs. The sleeve of her thermal was covered in tears and snot. She didn't want to move, but after reading what had happened with Eleanor and June, and the suicide attempt, she carefully extricated herself from the bed and went to the en suite to grab a box of tissue. She settled back in.

Caroline picked up the first part of the letter again, though she hadn't yet read it all the way to the end. She didn't want to read any of it again. She didn't know if she could. But she had to, she owed it to Eleanor to understand it all. She knew there were pieces she missed the first time around through her tears and through her shock. She wasn't sure what she'd expected to read - but this wasn't it.

She wanted none of it to be true. She wanted none of what had happened to her Eleanor to be true. That she'd never had to live out the loneliness and shame that she must have felt. She wanted a lot of things right now. But most of all she wanted Eleanor _here_. She wanted to completely smother her and tell her it was all _fine._ That it was over. That she would never, _never_ face something like this by herself again. Eleanor was strong, in Caroline's mind and heart. Stronger than she felt herself to be even, in some ways. Though she also knew her to be incredibly vulnerable in others. More so than Caroline had imagined.

She wanted Eleanor here. But of course she could understand why she'd left the letter. If she'd kept this from everyone, even herself, for so long, the telling of it must be exceptionally difficult. And sometimes writing something like this out was its own act of healing.

It's what she held in her hands, then. Eleanor's catharsis. She continued.

' _Moving to London - I wasn't ready for it. I didn't know I needed to be. I thought all of it was in the past. Everything in Harrogate, my life here, including you, made me a stronger person for years. I focused on that, and moving forward. I built a person and a life I'm proud of, and that I love. You didn't know me then, Caroline. But I was different in many ways years ago._

 _I've done what's needed to be done. To fix the London issue and remain in Harrogate. If it's still relevant to you - me being in Harrogate - I'll explain things when we talk next. I've found myself again, but I worry I've done so too late. I looked backward, Caroline. When this all started, with London - I looked back, and I went back, and through my own negligence allowed Emma to reopen wounds that were only partially healed. I ignored the return of the guilt and the grief. I didn't pay proper attention. I didn't ask for help when I should have, and in so doing I've hurt both of us. I let Emma in to my life - our lives. And then I let her into my house…_

A few moments later Caroline finished the letter. She felt her tears begin to recede. Though she was no stranger to temper, in replacement of the tears came a slow, building, resonant anger of a tenor that wasn't unprecedented in intensity, but was unfamiliar.

She read the last lines again.

' _Forgive me, Caroline._

 _\- Always, always, your Eleanor.'_

* * *

Eleanor turned over under the sheets in the hotel room, and faced Lily sleeping on the bed next to her. She'd told the girls her sister June's story - the whole story - on the drive down. They'd have more time to talk about it over the next few days as they settled June in to the dorm at Exeter. Eleanor and Lily were here until Tuesday, and then headed home.

The girls had been as wonderfully compassionate and mature about it as Eleanor had expected. They'd agreed to keep this in confidence until Eleanor could talk to George and Margaret. June of course was visibly devastated and full of supportive questions. Lily had been sympathetic. Quiet and watchful, but with eyes that looked right into Eleanor and offered all the love she could.

Eleanor watched Lily now, peaceful and quiet in the moonlight. But her mind was on Caroline. She knew she'd read the letter by now. But that was all she knew. Eleanor would give her the space she needed to respond in her own way, and her own time. But the questions came over and over again, driving off sleep as the minutes on the alarm clock over Lily's shoulder ticked by. How would Caroline take all this – on top of everything else that had already transpired? What was she thinking? What would happen when Eleanor returned to Harrogate? Had she lost everything they'd built?

She would have her answers when they came. The outcome was beyond her control now, and that was actually a comforting thought. She turned over on to her back. She pictured a large open field, covered in green and in bright spring flowers, and began to count back from one-hundred. Now disciplined in the exercise, she thought only of that fresh meadow and fresh air. She made it to seventy and finally nodded off to sleep.


	53. Chapter 53

Eleanor's chest was tight and her stomach in knots. She wanted Caroline to answer the door now. She wanted her to never answer the door. It all seemed so artificially and impossibly balanced. All won or all lost in the next few minutes. Of course it wasn't as dramatic as all that, but there was no telling her stomach.

They'd agreed to meet Wednesday evening after Caroline returned home from school. Celia and Alan were in Halifax and Flora with Greg. Caroline had seemed supportive over the phone during their quick conversation – but had also said it was something they should discuss in person. Eleanor wouldn't believe what she heard – wouldn't know for sure what she believed – until she could look at Caroline. See her and feel her reaction in person.

So she stood waiting, eyes closed as she focused on breathing. The sun had just begun to set and the trees were becoming one dimensional dark outlines against a violet sky. It was still late summer warm, though a damp was sneaking into the air in the evening.

She heard footsteps approaching. Her heart doubled-timed as Caroline opened the door.

The warm glow of the house was a soothing contrast to the falling dark outside, and backlit Caroline as she stood facing Eleanor. She wore her favorite pair of jeans and a wide boat neck sweater over a tank top - and the kindest smile Eleanor had yet seen from her. It reminded her of how Caroline looked at Flora. Adoring and passionately protective. She put her hand over her mouth and instantly began to cry. Which was exactly what she told herself she wouldn't do.

She shook her head and laughed nervously. "I'm so sorry. I don't mean to cry like an idiot. You haven't even said anything."

Caroline smiled and stepped back from the threshold and opened her arms. "Come on then. Let's get all the crying out of the way first, you and I both, and then we can talk."

She nodded vehemently and rushed forward. She buried her head on Caroline's shoulder and cried until it was tiresome. She swiped at her eyes, took a deep breath in and collected herself, apologized again.

"I'm sorry."

The kindness was still there, but Caroline's expression was stern. "The first thing you're going to do is stop apologizing. It's not like you, and I won't have it any longer."

Eleanor's eyes widened, but she smiled and nodded. "Right."

She took Eleanor's hand and lead her through into the living room. There was already an open bottle of wine, two empty wine glasses and two full water glasses. A broken bar of dark chocolate was on a plate adjacent.

"It seemed to me that we might want reinforcements."

"You always were the clever one." Eleanor tried, but the tear-stains on her cheeks belied the bite in her wit and the effect was more endearing than flirtatious.

Caroline didn't respond, but she sat on the couch instead.

Eleanor slid off her heels and followed suit, next to Caroline but not close. She opened her mouth to speak, and Caroline held up her hand.

"There are a couple things I have to say first. You've said so much already – with your letter. And before we go further, you need to know where I am. I need you to understand me perfectly."

Eleanor's heart started slamming again at the change in demeanor. Caroline's eyes became an icier blue and her tone deep.

"Right now the only problem I can see for us moving forward is that I will slowly and joyfully squeeze every inch of life out of Emma Slattery with my bare hands, if we ever cross paths again. Subsequently I'll be jailed. So we're both going to need to make sure that never happens. Are we quite clear on that point?"

Caroline's words hinted at a humorous effect, but there was only deadly serious intent and anger dancing in her eyes.

Eleanor nodded. She laughed out loud in abject relief and smiled up with fresh new tears that quickly subsided.

Caroline continued, but this time her tone was lighter, and her look imperious. Clearly judging Emma in her mind and finding her severely lacking. "Even Flora understands the concept of keeping your hands off of what belongs to others. And you belong to me, Eleanor Strathclyde. You and I are the only ones who can change that." Caroline's tone became serious again. "She's badly used you, and she's hurt something very precious in this world." She leaned forward to tuck a strand of hair behind Eleanor's ear. "I'm sorry for that."

She felt oceans of relief washing over her and confidence rushing back in. Her chest opened up and she stood abruptly. She couldn't help it. She laughed again and shook her hands at her sides, more tears of happiness and relief. She held a hand up gently to a curious Caroline.

"It's all been so much. I just – I need to move for a minute." She paced briefly and then smiled brightly.

She sat down facing Caroline, knees on either side of her hips, and settled onto her lap. She'd blown off two hair appointments, and it hung down in loose auburn waves, now past her elbows and on to Caroline's chest. "I need to do this right now. We can keep talking. I know we have to." She sighed dramatically. "But I have to do this right now."

She took the collars of shirt and leaned in to this woman she needed so terribly, her kiss traveling from the very tips of her toes all the way through her body and pouring into Caroline everything she'd carried the past months, and the weight of what she'd dug up that week alone.

* * *

Caroline sat further back in the couch. She was glad to take on what Eleanor had to let go. Glad to offer her anything she needed, to be who she needed to make herself whole again. To do whatever she could to rediscover the the woman who'd begun to change her life – to change her - last year, and was continuing to do so even today.

The kiss was intense, but not exactly passionate. She felt Eleanor's need beginning to wane, and she smiled against her. She put her hands on Eleanor's hips and eased her up.

Eleanor smiled in apology and her eyes widened as she stood. "Oh. Oh – your back. I'm sorry. I tend to get carried away when it comes to kissing you."

"It's fine. But let's save my strength."

"Innuendos are my territory."

Caroline smiled, stood and leaned over to stretch her back. Eleanor moved into her as she straightened up. She wrapped her arms around Caroline's lower back and massaged briefly, which prompted a whimper of mixed enjoyment and discomfort at the touch.

Eleanor winced. She stood back and crossed her arms. "Now that you've heard it from a medical professional, perhaps you'll finally take my advice and join me at yoga?"

Caroline smirked and nodded. She poured two glasses of wine and offered one to Eleanor, and they tilted their glasses together with a small clink.

She took Eleanor's hands in hers. "I am terribly sorry about June. I'm terribly sorry that you went through all of that – any of that. And that you didn't have the support you needed." She leaned forward. "You're the strongest person I know. Then and now. And I love it. I love you. Past, present and future. Know that, please."

Eleanor closed her eyes and nodded. "It feels true, when you say it."

"Whatever you need – anything. I'm here. If it's in my power, I'll do it. And if it's not in my power, I'll learn how to do it. I want to help you."

Eleanor opened her eyes, gaze clear and full. "Thank you."

Caroline sat up and back. She leaned over to the coffee table and took a long drink from her wine glass. Now her expression became tentative. "You mentioned – in your letter – staying in Harrogate." She looked down at her hands and back up with a million questions in her eyes.

Eleanor positively beamed. She rearranged herself on the couch. She was silent, dramatic as always again. building the moment of revelation with eyes alight in mischief and happiness.

"Yes. I did. Your girlfriend has finally done something quite clever. I took my eye off the ball, for a moment. I forgot about being innovative. But only for a moment." She winked.

Caroline smiled down at Eleanor, the Eleanor she'd been missing. Cocky and confident. Arrogant even, except for the fact that she backed up her claims.

"What have you done, then? Do tell." She felt a bubbling joy in her own heart, encouraged.

"I'm sorry I couldn't say anything earlier. But Ken wouldn't agree to see reason for the longest time. The offer's gone out, so I'll tell you now, though it's more than confidential. I wouldn't say anything at all, but I need you to know this is real." Her expression went from playful to serious. "I'm here to stay. In Harrogate. Assuming you'll have me." She grinned mischievously.

Caroline shifted her hips to warm up her back and threw caution to the wind. She came forward onto Eleanor, who squealed in surprised delight, and pinned her underneath her on the couch.

She wanted to smile but she couldn't yet. "Are you sure?"

Eleanor's smile was from ear to ear. "I am. Positively. Because we're selling Anadyne. We've had offers for a while from another company who wants parts of our distribution network and a piece of R and D we've been working on successfully for about a year. It's complementary to something they've got." She shook her head and kept smiling. "That's the boring part. The not boring part is that our C-suite is going to do very well in the deal, now and in the future. I can sell some of the stock I have now, after the acquisition, and still stay partially invested in the new company. We're also getting a chance at options, which I'll take. They should do very well once they use our research to bring the drug they're developing to market. And since I won't be going on to Pantheon – the new parent company – they're buying out the last three years on my current contract. I've got the money and the time I need to figure out what I want next." Eleanor's eyebrow went up, her brown eyes danced, and she bit her lip with all the suggestion she could muster. "Besides you, that is."

Caroline stayed over her silent, taking in the news and feeling it re-open a world of possibilities she wanted more than anything to consider. She felt as if someone had turned up the light in the room and in her life.

Eleanor smiled, eyes bright, wrapped her hands around Caroline's midriff. "Say something."

Caroline was still quiet, still in disbelief. Imagining this is how it must feel to win the national lottery. Part of her believed it could never happen. That it had happened. That Eleanor was going to remain out of reach. Part of her had already begun the work of reconstructing a single life. But it was a small part of her that was shrinking with each passing moment.

She sat back on her knees. Eleanor came up to rest on her elbows. She arched her brow in expectation.

"We're going to be together, aren't we?" A smile began on Caroline's lips.

"Yes. We are." Eleanor moved herself back and sat up to face Caroline and slowly started to move toward her and wrapped an arm around her.

She crooked her finger toward Eleanor, who leaned down until their heads touched. She brushed Eleanor's long hair back and whispered in her ear.

Eleanor heard her but did not immediately react. She paused for a second, considering Caroline's sparkling blue eyes. She was absolutely still. Then she dove forward to kiss her, palms against the couch at her shoulders, but her whole body against her. She abruptly sat back on her knees. She ripped her shirt off and flung it toward the arm chair next to the couch and then immediately resumed smothering her in forceful kisses.

She pulled up again and looked at Caroline with eyes that were dark.

Fully engaged but still able to find amusement at Eleanor's complete abandon, Caroline chuckled. "My body is in no shape for scandalous liaisons on the living room couch."

Eleanor was unaffected by her reluctance and pushed forward. "You can ask, but I won't wait for you, Caroline. I won't. I'm having you right here. Right now. I'm going to completely ravish you, and more than once."

She took one of Eleanor's hands and placed it on her chest. "Perhaps you won't wait, darling. But you can slow down, please. Because I'll wait for you." Caroline whispered in Eleanor's ear again.

"And I promise I'll make that wait worth every second that passes."

Eleanor's eyes darkened further, pitch black now, and she was silent.

"I've finally left you speechless." She gave her own teasing smile and toyed with a lock of Eleanor's auburn hair.

Eleanor's voice, when she found it, was low and hoarse. "Upstairs. Right now. No stops. No delays, no more talking, for now, at least, and _no_ 'Caroline' distractions. I'll carry you up myself if you try anything. You know I will. You know I can."

"I know you can, Eleanor. And you can carry me anywhere you'd like."

* * *

 _ **Fin.**_


End file.
